Midlife Crisis
by Sinister Scribe
Summary: “Other people inherit money, country estates or vintage cars. What do I get?...A parasite.” I had to do it. Rated for language and later smut. U know you wanna.
1. Chapter 1: New Arrival

_**Alright, kiddies, anybody moans about me starting a new story I'm gonna bash them. I've just finished Family Ties and I'm almost finished House Breaking, so no whining, just be grateful I'm this benevolent. **_

_**This one is a drama with comedy undertones, over tones, highlights whatever. **_

_**Um, yeah, House is gonna be probably quite out of character for some parts of this but you'll just have to deal because some of these situations will not be very House-friendly. I am going to try and actually have a plot for this one, bit more along the lines of 'the Inspirationals' weight of writing (yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, update already) um…so not just a smut-fest…though there will be some of that in here too. **_

_**::grins evilly::**_

_**I'll update as soon as I can but I warn you that I have no internet access at home so it may be a while. I am getting broadband (thank god) but it may be a while yet. **_

_**Patience, virtue, et cetera, yadda, et al. **_

_**Read and review me!!**_

_Chapter 1: New Arrival_

Dr Gregory House stood in his office and leant against his desk. He could have sat…but he didn't want to, not really. The familiar ache of his leg gnawed at him and he ignored it in favour of watching the rain droplets race each other down the dimly lit window pane. He pursed his lips and thumped his thinky-thinky ball against his good leg idly. Thunder boomed somewhere in the distance and he smiled softly. He had always loved thunderstorms. He had loved to run out onto the huge flat of the airfields where his father had been stationed and the feeling of being the only person on the planet, alone in that storm. Thunder crashing overhead like the world's largest set of symbols. Lightening forming dramatic backlighting for his antics. The sound of his smaller ten-year old feet pattering against the concrete as he ran. The sound mingling with the staccato rain drops slapping against the world.

The memory washed over him and he welcomed the escape from the every day boredom of his current thoughts. He didn't have a case. Nothing interested him. He had even sent the team home and had remained here, in his office, alone, because he knew that more of the same stinking stagnation of monotony awaited him at his empty apartment. Usually he would have revelled in the solitude. He did genuinely _like_ being alone but lately…he had begun to feel lonely.

Other men might have called it a mid-life crisis, but House was too smart for that. It was a realisation. He had begun to realise that he had more days behind him than ahead. He was forty five, living alone in the same apartment for the past fifteen years. The only woman he'd ever loved he'd let go. Not, as some naive oncologists might have believed, because he'd believed himself unworthy of her, he'd just cared enough about her to realise that it could never really work between them. He never lied and she lied too much.

The ball thumped down and arced up off the floor to perch in his hand. He sent it bouncing down again.

Thunder yelled directly overhead this time.

A pet.

He supposed he could get a pet. He wanted companionship and animals didn't talk back. It would have to be a cat anyway. He couldn't stand the sycophancy of dogs. His brief stint with Henry had taught him that much. Cats were their own kind of people. They owned a room when they stalked into it. House smirked at that. He thought about that some more. A kitten? A cute little ball of fluff that would mewl and stagger about his apartment on unsteady kittenish legs. Big eyes and ears not quite small enough to fit its face? House's mouth twisted, he really couldn't see him and a cute ball of anything going together.

Maybe he could go down to the pound and pick up a mangled alley cat. Something tough and grizzled that would be as disdainful and mean as he was…that idea had merit.

The ball thumped back up into his hand. Thunder roiled overhead like the growling of something incredibly large and very angry. The rain hammered harder against the window.

If he didn't know any better, House would have thought that sounded foreboding. Fortunately, House knew better.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for a Dr Gregory House?"

House looked up, faintly surprised to note that the door to his office had been pushed open without his noticing and a young woman stood in the doorway. She held a package, a clipboard, a huge tote bag and…a baby carrier about her person. Giving the impression that she had more arms than average. Must be take the sprog to work day, House mused quietly in his own head and nodded his head up in acknowledgement.

"Yeah?" He was even too bored for sarcasm today and she'd be gone soon anyway. Hopefully before the infant woke up and started squalling.

"Can I see some ID?" She asked, marching into the room in a business like fashion. She set bag, baby and package down on his chair and desk and flashed her own badge. House sighed and dug through his pockets before he yanked out his hospital ID. "Driver's license?" She asked hopefully and House worked that out of his wallet as well. She took them both and scrutinised them carefully, flipping through the papers on her clipboard carefully and apparently comparing several details there. She smirked in satisfaction and handed both ID back to him.

"Sign here and here, please." She instructed helpfully, pointing to red arrows at dotted lines. She ripped off the invoice when he was finished and double checked everything again. She didn't seem like a courier, House noticed. Dressed in a business suit with a flowing skirt rather than the simple courier uniform with hat at a jaunty angle that the companies usually went for these days. "Okay," she grinned sunnily at him and he didn't return the expression. Settling for bouncing his giant ball in a rather disdainful fashion instead. "That's all. Good luck." She handed the package to him and then spun on one heel, hitching her clipboard a little higher and then headed for the door.

It took House a full three seconds to note that she had forgotten her kid.

"Hey!" He called after and scrambled for his cane, lurching after her painfully. She turned at the door.

"Yes?"

"Listen, lady, I don't know how dim you have to be in your job, but you forgot your kid." He pointed emphatically at the still sleeping bundle of…something or other, in the carrier on his chair. The woman followed the direction of his finger and arched one brow.

"I don't know how smart you have to be to be a doctor," she returned smoothly, "but I would have thought that reading was up there on the list of things. The child is not mine. She's yours."

And with that, she spun on her heel and left the room. Leaving House too stunned to even call after her again.

He turned to stare at the kid.

No fucking way.


	2. Chapter 2: There's No Reason For it

_**Okay, this chappies a bit more explanatory and I just thought I'd update for y'all before I drop off the face of the earth again. **_

_**Scuddyrific I think you'll find that House's winky was nowhere in the vicinity so mind out of the gutter please, that's my territory ;P**_

_**Um…aye, still a bit sad and introspective in this one but I promise it DOES lighten up as we go along. Honest. **_

_**You know I get tired of angst anyway so only short bursts of it. **_

_**Right, now children I want lots of reviews for when I come back okay? or else I may not update as soon as and leave y'all hanging. **_

_**Is that mercenary? Holding chapters for ransom with reviews? **_

_**Hell yeah!**_

_**Mwaha, I never claimed to be nice.**_

_Chapter 2: There's No Reason For It, It's Just Company Policy_

"Say again?"

House was working _very _hard to keep a rein on his temper. He tried to remind himself that the idiot on the other end of the line was his only ticket out of this mess and that _not_ yelling disparaging comments about their parentage down the phone at them would perhaps extricate him from said predicament faster that was currently happening.

"_Again_, sir." The faintly nasal voice intoned through the phone line, impatience clearly colouring their words. "We cannot deal with your situation until _Monday_ as we have no staff to help with your problem."

"You're telling me that I'm stuck with the parasite until Monday because your staff can't be bothered to actually work over a holiday weekend?" House demanded hotly, his temper slipping a notch further.

"Your tax dollars at work, sir." The other speaker told him in an apathetic monotone.

House resisted the strong urge to scream. Only just though. "Okay," he spoke through clenched teeth. "Is there anyone _else_ who might be more _useful_ in this matter?"

"Not as far as I'm aware, sir. There is only one social services department to deal with abandoned children in the United States and this is it." The voice told him with finality and House actually pulled the phone away from his ear to give it the full force of his displeasured glare. He growled under his breath and then jammed it back against his head.

"So, you're basically telling me I'm screwed?" He wanted to clarify. Just to be sure. After all, if he was going to commit homicide he might as well have stellar reasoning behind it.

"Sir, if you have a child I think it would be a fair bet to say that you already have been."

House hung up. He'd had enough. There was only so much that a man on the cusp of a mid-life crisis could cope with and the freaking government employees seemed hell-bent on shoving him clean over the edge. So he slammed the handset into the cradle with enough force to crack the plastic and glared at the damn thing, chest heaving in his anger. He wanted to yell at someone, at the very least look for something to batter senseless with his cane but that might wake the parasite and the only thing worse than a quiet parasite was a screaming one. He popped a vicodin and huffed out a final sigh of frustration.

He limped over to inspect the bundle in the carrier. He didn't dare move the car seat style carrier in case the thing woke up but he scrutinised it carefully. Perhaps he could call Cameron and get her to look after it over the weekend…he thought about that briefly and then shunted it to the side. The last thing he needed was the return of the goo-goo eyes. He reached out and edged the blanket away from the runt's face.

The parasite would have been described as adorable by anyone that had been cursed with some vague kind of parenting instinct. Little chubby cheeks, cute cupid's bow mouth and pale, pale, silver ringlets curling out from under the tea-cosey style bobble hat it wore. It had been bundled up in blankets to protect against the chill in the fall air.

House growled out another huff of breath and then hefted the package again to read over the pile of papers as thick as his finger encased therein. The parasite was the progeny of his cousins.

Meredith and Thackeray House. Unfortunate names if ever there were. House remembered Meredith and her husband from various family functions that his mother had guilted him into attending. They were the only other people in the small House clan that were near his age, Merry had been…thirty nine? She and Thackeray had died in a car crash not a month previously and custody of the sprog had been appointed to him. He had by no means been close to the couple, but he had found them tolerable. Merry had been a sex therapist of some persuasion and Thackeray a daredevil stuntman of some sort. The irony of them dying on the road was not lost on House when Thackeray had periodically walked away from fireball car wrecks with little more than bruises.

He looked down at the parasite and then consulted the papers again. Leafing through until he found the birth certificate, over the medical files on the tiny sleeping thing in the carrier.

Kathryn Jane House slept on blissfully unaware of the intense scrutiny under which she lay. House looked at the papers again, triple checked the space next to 'Parent/Guardian; Dr Gregory House'. He sighed.

A little girl.

Less than a year old and he was her sole guardian until Monday at the earliest. He looked down at the apparently innocent expression on the sleeping parasite's face and just _knew_ that would all change when she woke up.

He growled again. A little freaking baby girl.

Aw _hell._

**$inister $cribe**

Good Lord how could something _scream_ like that?

It was over an hour later and House still hadn't left his office. He had been plotting to figure out what to do for the weekend. It was Thanksgiving but it wasn't like he had anything to do with that kind of holiday. He was just wondering who else he could drag into this predicament that would be available and actually be of some assistance.

Then Kathryn had awoken and decided that the hospital had been far too quiet and if she was up then everybody _else_ had to be up too. Thus, she had proceeded to calmly scream the place down.

House had tried to quiet her. He really had. He'd shushed her, rocked the carrier, checked if she'd needed changing (thanking a god he didn't believe in when she hadn't) and had even gone so far as to heat up one of the ready made bottles in the Bottomless Bag of Baby-things now half emptied out on his floor. Apparently formula wasn't the vogue thing for babies of this day and age to be eating because his new charge had decided she'd much rather vomit the stuff all over his Led Zeppelin tee shirt rather than get it down her neck.

He had also realised, with a fair amount of self-disgust, that – for a doctor – he knew absolutely jack shit about babies.

Sure, he could diagnose them when no one else could. Ask him to reel off a bunch of life threatening diseases that affect only infants and he could talk ears off. But actually how to look after said infants?

Not a clue.

So House sat and pondered of the marvel that was human evolution that had allowed the offspring of humanity to develop a set of lungs so powerful at birth that they could keep up a single ululating cry at the _exact_ pitch and tone designed to induce insanity in human beings for apparently hours on end. House believed that the Geneva convention allowed similar tactics to be used in the breaking of terrorists in interrogation.

And they said it wasn't torture!

As much as it irked him to admit it. He needed help. He stared at the screaming runt in the carrier thing and scowled. "Shush." He demanded tersely and his eyebrows shot up when the parasite paused in its squalling and looked up at him with huge storm blue eyes. She frowned slightly and then promptly resumed her one-sided screaming match.

House rubbed at his temple and tried to think. He needed help. Not Wilson because, despite being married more times than he had fingers, he had a rather unhealthy aversion to children. Foreman would just laugh at him. Chase would be less than useless and Cameron would look on it as a sign of him 'growing' or something equally as vomit inducing.

So that left…House's brows shot up in surprise at himself. How could he not have thought sooner? The screaming changed in pitch as well as increasing in volume and he winced. Ah, yes, that was why. He stood, pulled off his sicked on tee shirt and then tugged his shirt on to keep in with public decency. He looked at all the crap for babies strewn about his desk and abandoned it in favour of yanking the carrier up off the chair and tottering slightly before he found his balance. He limped torturously slowly towards the doors and hoped that he got there without dropping it.

After all, he told himself, they might not accept it if it was damaged.

**$inister $cribe**

Cuddy sat behind her desk and tilted her head to the side. She frowned and rubbed at her ear experimentally. Nope, the noise was still there. Something high pitched and unhappy like…

The doors to her office burst open and a familiar scruffy figure limped in the door accompanied by more than his usual fair share of noise.

Cuddy blinked rapidly and her mouth dropped open wordlessly as she recognised the flailing mittened fists and red gape mouthed face of a very young, very unhappy, baby held in the carrier seat by House's side. He hobbled up to her desk and promptly deposited his cargo on her cluttered table top, over the papers she had been attempting to double check. Cuddy rose to her feet to see over the baby seat and looked down at the very unhappy infant then up at House.

"Who the hell did you knock up?" She demanded to know the answer to the first question that popped into her befuddled brain. House and babies just did not go.

Ever.

He scowled at her then shouted to be heard over the baby's screaming. "I didn't knock anyone up. I inherited her." He waved his arm expansively. "Other people inherit money, country estates or vintage cars. What do I get?" He looked down at the still screaming baby with a scowl of barely repressed disapproval. "A parasite." He lamented.

Cuddy opened her mouth to shout another question to him and then huffed in annoyance. She unclipped the restraints on the carrier and pulled the howling baby up into her arms. Noting the temperature of the baby's skin she removed mittens, hat and blanket as well. The child quieted almost immediately. Cuddy smiled in satisfaction and bounced the baby against her hip.

"Well, aren't you beautiful?" She asked the most adorable blonde in the world. Wide silvery blue eyes stared up at her and then Cuddy was rewarded with a wide gummy grin and a pat on her cheek for being a sensible adult and helping her out of an intolerable situation.

"How did you do that?" House demanded, yanking Cuddy's attention back to him. She had nearly forgotten his was in the room. Cuddy suppressed a sigh of satisfaction when the baby gurgled softly and rested her silver curls against Cuddy's throat. Small hands latched around the pearls ringing Cuddy's neck and toyed with them. "I tried everything." He grumbled.

"Well, evidently not if all she wanted was to be held." Cuddy told him smartly as she rounded the desk and forced herself to move to hand the baby back to House. She reminded herself sternly that, no, she couldn't keep her. He backed away as if the romper suit clad doll-like figure in Cuddy's arms was radioactive. "House…" She didn't like this. Or rather, she liked it too much. She even avoided the maternity unit now because she just couldn't stand to look at all the proud, happy new parents and adorable children they had. Holding a baby like this was a bitter sweet torture that would probably keep her up for weeks on end. Reminding her of what she had lost, what she had so very nearly had. She didn't think she was strong enough for that.

"No, this is the first time it's been quiet all afternoon." He shook his head and retreated to the other end of the office. Cuddy sighed and settled the baby closer to her chest again. She couldn't help but press her nose to the silver curls and inhale that sweet baby scent even as she watched House as carefully as he watched her.

"She's not an 'it'." Cuddy told him, though without much venom. "What's her name?"

House sighed. "Kathryn." He said and looked away when Cuddy looked up at him questioningly. He supposed if he needed help then he'd better explain to her the origins of the runt. He growled, something he was beginning to do with more frequency since this afternoon, and then launched into the tale of his cousins' demise and their subsequently idiotic decision to leave their progeny in his care.

Cuddy blinked at the end of the whole sordid story and then said at length. "They obviously didn't know you very well if they left her with you." She told him without watching his face. She was concentrating on Kathryn and so missed the expression of something that looked a great deal like hurt flitting across his face.

"Gee, thanks." He said perhaps more acidly than he would have earlier. Cuddy carefully settled Kathryn on her lap while she sat primly and then looked up, realising what she had said and how it must have sounded.

"I meant that you don't like children, not that you're _completely_ useless at dealing with them." She told him with an annoyed expression on her face, like he had deliberately misunderstood her. She was quiet a moment while she smoothed a hand over Kathryn's back. "So, why haven't you foisted her off on social services yet?" She asked the question quietly, reluctant to think about such a beautiful baby being put into care. Nobody deserved that. Nobody should grow up without a family, without their blood there to look after and care for them.

"Their office isn't open until Monday." House huffed.

"Oh." Her voice sounded even smaller this time. Something occurred to her suddenly. "Why did you bring her here?"

"I needed…" His mouth twisted like it was unused to forming the words that wanted to come out of it. "Help." He finally settled on.

A chill went down her spine and she stared at him. He couldn't be asking her what she thought he was asking her. It wasn't fair. She couldn't do it. She _wouldn't_ do it. She shook her head rapidly. "No." She rose to her feet and strode across the room, almost shoving Kathryn's tiny warm body against House's chest. "No." She repeated again more firmly at the almost pleading look in his eyes.

"Cuddy, come on, you know I'm crap at this. I didn't even know she wanted to be held!" He hissed at her and Kathryn whimpered, not liking the sound of anger rumbling from deep within the chest against which she was being awkwardly held.

"Get Cameron to help you." Cuddy snapped and forced herself to walk away. Both man and baby looked at her with matching pleading expressions. She steeled herself against it out of sheer self-preservation. She couldn't do this, she told herself, she had nightmares as it was.

"Cameron would be too busy ogling me to be of any use and you know it." He snapped at her. He limped over to her, awkwardly with his cane and balancing the baby that was beginning to fidget in his arms. "Cuddy, I can barely even walk with her. I…we need you."

Cuddy looked up at him then. Her eyes stinging with tears that she had long since learned how to hold back. She almost hated him in that moment. She looked down at Kathryn and then back up to House. She levelled an accusing finger at him. "I'll do it on one condition."

House shrugged. "Clinic for life, got it."

"No." The strained hollow tone of her voice surprised him but he didn't question it. He looked down at her expectantly as she glared up at him, suddenly looking more fragile than he would have thought possible. "You at least consider keeping her."

House frowned at her. "Are you insane? I'm not daddy material. I'm a drug addicted misanthrope who's too selfish to even hold down a steady relationship. I'd ruin _anyone_ never mind an impressionable young mind."

Cuddy didn't back down. "No, you're better than you realise and she doesn't deserve to grow up with strangers."

"I'm a stranger!" He protested.

A suddenly angry finger stabbed against his chest, next to the small baby fist that had gripped the collar of his shirt. "You're her blood. Her family, whether you like it or not you're all she's got and you're _responsible_ for her now. At least try, that's all I'm asking."

"Demanding more like." He grumped at her.

She crossed her arms over her chest with a note of finality ringing through the air with the tail end of the storm overhead. He sighed, knowing that he was between a baby rock and a boss hard place. "I'll consider it." He relented. "If you take her right now." His arm was getting tired and he really didn't want to drop the little runt.

Cuddy, only slightly mollified and wondering at what she was getting herself into, held out her arms and accepted Kathryn with grace that House was fascinated by. He watched the way Cuddy smiled softly at the baby in her arms. Kissing her brow gently and rubbing soothing circles against her back. Kathryn cooed and tapped at Cuddy's mouth with a tiny fist. A small grin pulled at the tiny cupid's bow of a mouth that the kid had and Cuddy returned it with her own sunny, if slightly melancholy smile.

House realised in that moment what he was asking of her. Exactly how much this must hurt for her to even hold a kid, never mind look after one knowing it was being packed off to the orphanage on Monday. He knew why she had made her demand and he would be lying to himself if he thought he was even going to consider it. He was poison, just like his own dad. With a father like his he hadn't needed enemies. He wasn't afraid he would turn into his old man because he was never going to have the chance to. He had made that promise to himself when he was old enough to understand what a proper father should be like and he wasn't about to start revoking it now.

No matter how right Cuddy looked standing there holding a baby and smiling her first real smile in what felt like forever.

"You have things for her?"

Her voice startled him out of his reverie and he nodded.

"Okay then, let's get going." She said in a steeled voice and ignored him watching her. She knew that she had shown too much. Knew that he had seen her pain and probably wouldn't hesitate to use it against her at the soonest opportunity, like he had the last time, but she couldn't think about that right now. She had a child to help look after. It wasn't Katy's fault. She was too tiny and helpless to have all this unfairness heaped on her. If Cuddy could bear some of that weight for her, even if it was for a weekend, then she would do it. She wouldn't think about Monday, she wouldn't think about how much it was going to hurt. She wouldn't even try to steel herself against falling in love with the tiny child held in her arms…because she already had.

Cuddy stalked past House and through the deserted clinic before he could say anything. Make some sarcastic comment that would have her regretting helping him. She heard him following behind her. She would worry about the fall out later. Right now, she was just trying to get through the weekend without having a complete breakdown.


	3. Chapter 3: Sleeping Arrangements

_**okay, so i couldn't resist the cute moments between House and baby Katy...plus some House Cuddy cuteness as well. I will be updating as soon as i can with my other fics but i still don't have that wonderful marvel of technology, the internet!!**_

**_so you'll hafta make do with this for the time being. i've still got a couple of chapters beyond this written up so updates are in the future. _**

**_thanks for all the gorgeous reviews from everybody and i hope y'all will keep on truckin along that theme. enjoy this chappie!!_**

**_ciao, $cribe._**

_Chapter 3: Sleeping Arrangements_

"Well, you coming in or not?" House dumped the Bottomless Bag of Baby-junk on the nearest flat surface, tossed his package of papers onto his coffee table and then turned to look at Cuddy and the sprog standing in the doorway. Well, Cuddy was standing, the parasite was looking about herself with big silvery eyes trying to take in all the details of the apartment at once. Something she was obviously picking up from the way Cuddy's eyes roved over every detail of the place before she stepped over the threshold and shut the door quietly behind herself.

"It's clean." Cuddy noted when nothing else presented itself to be said in the echoing silence. The storm had passed and was now only a faintly heard rumble in the distance, indistinguishable from the snarl of distant traffic on the freeway.

"Don't sound so surprised." He said almost sullenly and ran a hand through his hair, not quite knowing what to do. She had only ever come here once, the last time it had been her asking _him_ for help to save another kid that belonged to another person. House told himself that he wasn't grinding his teeth and limped to the small kitchen instead. "Want a coffee?"

"Please." Her reply was accompanied by the clicking of her heels against the hardwood floors. He heard her follow him and he flipped the coffee machine to 'on' and then leant back against the counter top turning to face them. Cuddy set the carrier on the scarred top of his maple table and unclipped the straps restraining the already eager to be free Kathryn inside the bucket seat. House watched with interest as Cuddy smiled and picked up the baby, holding her up above her head and grinning broadly up into the baby's laughing face. Kathryn loved it and kicked her tiny legs, shrieking a gurgling laugh and reached down to try and touch Cuddy's face. Cuddy lowered Kathryn back down into a cuddle and bounced her against one hip expertly. House watched the ease with which she moved and again he was needled by how much this was going to hurt her.

"Hey, baby Katy," Cuddy was saying softly. "This place isn't half as bad as you thought it was going to be, huh?" Cuddy jostled 'Katy' again and House arched a brow.

"You nicknamed her already?" He asked archly and received one of the fiercest glares yet.

"You're calling her 'her' already?" She asked back coolly and he scowled at her. Touché. The coffee machine blipped and House used the excuse to turn away gratefully. He was _not_ becoming attached to Katy, her, it, _whatever_! He couldn't keep her anymore than he could keep Cuddy. House's hand stilled over the mugs of coffee as that thought swam up to his conscious brain. He ground his teeth and told himself he wasn't doing it again. Denial was fast becoming a safe haven for him.

Talk about your midlife crisis, he mused silently and poured thick black coffee for them both. Among the other miasmic feelings of…(go on, admit it) loneliness, he had also begun to recognise exactly what kind of form the remedy for such an ailment might be. Or rather _who_ the remedy might be.

He had always been attracted to her, ever since she had first glared at him all the way back in Michigan. That blue fire that had snapped in her eyes had always been an allure to him. He'd always liked to play with fire. See how far he could go without being burned. He stirred some milk into hers, knowing that was how she took her coffee and let his thoughts swirl the same way the cloudy white liquid was mixing with black. But he had begun to…well, to care about her. Or he'd begun to notice that he cared about her. He didn't just want her the way a man wants a woman hard and fast on a bed…or on the floor or up against a wall or…House brought his raging thoughts back under control. Okay, so he still wanted her that way. She was stunning, who wouldn't? But he wanted more as well. He actually found himself making excuses to go down to her office just so he could see her. Interrupting her dates had been less than suave and the 'that ship has sailed' comment still rankled on him. He'd begun to wonder more and more if the ship really had sailed or if he could still catch up to it if he had the right kind of wind at his back.

"House?" Her hand on his shoulder caused him to jump and he smacked back into the real world with a thump.

"Yeah?" He demanded and looked over his shoulder, he could see her face clearly but he could also just make out a flash of silvery blonde curls and big grey/blue eyes.

"You going to give me that coffee or stare at it all night?"

"Practicing my pyrokinesis." He said without much thought behind it and handed it over to her. "Watch, it's hot." He said with a playful wink that he didn't necessarily feel. She gave an orbital roll of her eyes and sipped from her mug gingerly instead of answering him.

Katy reached for the mug, intending to drink herself and whimpered when Cuddy pulled it out of her reach. "No, Katy, caffeine's evil. Don't become a slave to the bean." Cuddy teased her and set her coffee down on the table out of sight. She skirted the table and sat at one of the fold away chairs there, settling Katy on her lap and giving her a hand to play with. Katy seized the appendage and turned it this way and that, carefully examining nails and soft skin before moving on to a taste test to check the quality. Apparently Cuddy tasted pleasant because Katy continued to chew on Cuddy's thumb without surcease.

House immersed himself in that Egyptian river again and told himself that he wasn't jealous.

He took a seat opposite them instead and watched the runt instead. She was ten months old, petite in every way and he might go so far as to say that she wasn't an ugly baby. The hair was shocking, definitely a bit of his grandmother in her, she'd had waist length silvery blonde hair as well and those eyes were definitely House eyes, pale and sharp. Not as vivid a blue as his own but a striking almost icy colour instead. She'd be a looker when she grew up, there was little doubt of that…House shied away from that thought.

He didn't want to think about her growing up. He _wasn't_ wrestling with a hot uncomfortable feeling of guilt high in his chest at the thought of abandoning her to social services. She wasn't his to abandon, he told himself fiercely, she never should have been his responsibility. No one deserved to have him as a parent.

A crappy dad would be better than none? That idea could only be put forward by a truly well rounded individual who'd never _had_ a crappy dad. House drank his coffee and shook another vicodin from his bottle. Another reason that he shouldn't be around kids was washed down his throat with a hot gulp of scalding liquid. He was an addict, an addict with a questionable record thanks to one Detective Tritter. He'd bribed the orderly in rehab for fuck's sake. What kind of example was that to set a kid?

"Where's she going to sleep?"

House lifted his head, dragged from his inner turmoil by her insistent voice. "Huh?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes and spoke again. "I'm presuming you don't have a crib, I was wondering where Katy's going to sleep."

House stared at her blankly for a moment, blinked slowly and then said the first thing that sounded plausible. "I'll clear out a drawer, she can sleep in that."

Cuddy frowned and he scowled back before defending himself. Which he _shouldn't _have to do, by the way.

"She won't care, she'd eat mud." He told her negligently and Cuddy sighed.

"She would not, she's got better taste than that." She sounded like she was trying very hard to keep things light.

House shrugged, not biting. "If you say so." He just had to get to Monday, he kept telling himself. Then he'd be free of them both and he could go back to being miserable in peace.

"I do." Cuddy affirmed and rose to her feet. She skirted the table and set Katy down in his arms before he could protest. "Hold her while I get her a bottle." Was her terse order and then she stalked to the living room, leaving House and Katy to eye each other with apparently mutual trepidation. He held her with both broad hands spanning her body and she hung there, her legs kicking while she watched him intently. She blew a bubble and House frowned slightly before it popped. Okay, this shouldn't be so hard. He was a doctor, one of the most difficult professions on the planet. _He_ had a double specialty. She couldn't even stand up without help.

She grinned at him. He was clearly outmatched.

"Bah!" She shouted suddenly and House jumped so hard that he nearly dropped her. He scowled at her in reprimand and she giggled waving her hands and reaching out to his face. House lowered her so that her tiny feet touched down on his good leg. He told himself it was just because his arms were getting tired holding up her non-existent weight. She reached again towards his face, apparently determined that he pass the touch test. He checked to make sure Cuddy was still rummaging for baby junk and then ducked his head slightly.

"Aaaah…"Katy said sagely and trailed off, a small frown etching over her face that seemed to draw all her facial features to the tip of her nose in concentration. He couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips and blamed it on those pesky evolutionary instincts. Her hands were so small against his skin. She patted his chin, babbling in surprise at the rough feel of his three-days-ago shadow. She tugged at his lip next and he pretended to bite her to let her know that he didn't appreciate being yanked there. His nose was tweaked in further scrutiny and he lifted her slightly so that she could sit on the edge of the table, moving his coffee cup out of harms way, while she gripped his ears then reached up further to tug at his hair. This appeared to be her favourite as she spent several seconds comparing length and texture. Keeping one fist in his hair, she reached with her other hand and buried it in her own curly blonde locks. He watched the tiny wheels turn behind those big silvery eyes. They were at eye level now, his forehead nearly touching hers and they watched each other with curiosity that was almost matching in intensity.

A small barely audible click, like a camera shutter flickering, had House pulling away. Katy released his hair and saved him from a scalping only when he settled her against his chest. He looked over with a frown to find Cuddy looking down at the screen of her phone, a small smile tugging at her lips. He tensed waiting for the inevitable comment…but she said nothing. Wordlessly tucking her phone away instead and the incriminating evidence with it, she clicked over the tiles and set about heating the bottle.

House decided that if she was willing to ignore his transgression then so was he. He instead focused on keeping Katy occupied as she was beginning to realise that she was indeed hungry now. What to do though? What soothed babies?

House's eyes wandered around his apartment in a seemingly vain search for inspiration and he brightened when they landed on something that just might do. He carefully lurched to his feet, settled Katy in one arm and then limped from the room.

**$inister $cribe**

Cuddy bit her lip to keep from smiling too broadly as she watched him leave the room with baby in tow. She whipped her phone out again and flipped the handset open. Her new wallpaper popped up in gloriously Technicolor illumination and her grin broadened as she looked down at it. The camera really was quite good on this phone she decided and this photograph alone had been worth the exorbitant price for the handset.

The picture was of House and Katy, eye to eye, foreheads resting against one another. They seemed to be locked into some kind of silent conversation, one trying to figure out the other without uttering a sound. Katy's hands were buried in House's hair and holding onto him as she stared into his eyes. Sky blue clashing with ice.

In a word, the picture was adorable.

House would go insane if she ever actually showed it to anyone. A smile kicked at the heels of that thought and her smirk bloomed into a full on grin. It disappeared as she plopped the bottle into the boiled water in the jug and heard the first few notes of music drift through from the living room. He was playing for her.

Cuddy picked up the jug and a towel and stalked through to the living room to double check with her eyes what she already knew to be true.

House was sitting a the bench at his baby grand, Katy straddled his good leg and looked down over the ivory keys with fierce concentration as his long fingers danced over them playing some nonsense song to keep her occupied. He supported her carefully with one arm wrapped around her, leaving his hands free to complete the complex steps he had set out in his mind's eye. Cuddy stopped by the edge of the piano, not wanting to interrupt but knowing that Katy must be getting hungry. House, never breaking the melody he was effortlessly filling the room with, looked up at her with a small smirk and slid along the bench, nodding to Katy and then the now warm enough bottle in Cuddy's hand.

After a moment's hesitation, Cuddy sat beside him and carefully lifted Katy out from under his arm. Katy made a vague sound of protest that instantly disappeared when the full bottle was proffered to her. She latched onto the rubber teat and drank greedily. Cuddy smiled and House kept playing, slowing the tempo up a little, easing into a lullaby melody that Cuddy hadn't realised he knew.

It took Cuddy long moments to realise what this strange feeling was that was washing over her like a drowning wave. Katy squirmed and then settled, still drinking sleepily as Cuddy smiled down at her. It was contentment. She wasn't ecstatically happy, but neither was she slipping into the depression that usually assailed her late on Friday nights when she got home to her own empty house. A house that she would be going back to all too soon. Empty of both piano playing distracting men and adorably orphaned babies. Cuddy drew the moment around herself like a blanket to huddle under against the cold of the rest of her life. That's what it seemed like most of the time. Hunkered down against endless days of winter, waiting for a spring, not knowing if she'd ever see it again. She was so tired of being stuck out in the cold…

"I wish I was as easily satisfied as that." House noted quietly at Katy's near sleeping form as Cuddy lifted the now empty bottle and set it on top of the piano, ignoring his scowl for doing so.

"Being handfed in the arms of a woman and then allowed to fall asleep?" Cuddy asked him quietly, smiling without force for once. "You are that easily satisfied."

"Ah, so you do remember?" He teased her and she laughed as loudly as she dared, lifting Katy and setting her against her shoulder. Katy allowed herself to be burped quietly without any vomit incidents, apparently she liked Cuddy's designer threads better than she liked House's band tee shirts. Cuddy met his eyes over the silver blonde head of the child between them and then looked away.

Perfect, that was _exactly _what she wanted to be reminded of right now, she thought in annoyance and smoothed her hand over a warm baby's back to try and bank her sudden temper.

"You want to empty that drawer? She'll go down now."

House's hands finally stilled over the keys and the silence was jarring once the last notes had faded away. "Sure." Was all he said, lurching to his feet and heading for his bedroom without waiting to see if Cuddy would follow. She did, after a long moment of staring after him. She rose to her feet and listened to the echo of her heels against the hardwood decidedly not baby-friendly floors as she treaded quietly along the corridor to his most private room. She stood uncertainly in the doorway and found him already stuffing the empty drawer with towels to pad it out for its tiny occupant. He'd snagged the baby bag on his way through and yanked out a blanket that looked likely for making sure the runt didn't get pneumonia. He set the drawer on top of the huge ottoman at the end of his bed and rattled it experimentally to make sure it wasn't going to spontaneously careen off into space at the least provocation.

Cuddy sidled in and inspected his work. It was definitely cosier than any of the basinets in the hospital…or an orphanage, she thought bitterly. Now that she was here, Cuddy was loath to part with her precious bundle. She fussed more than she should have with the already dozing infant and finally, when she could put it off no longer, settled her down into her drawer bed. Katy hummed quietly and then dropped off to sleep completely as her two guardians looked on, standing so close but not daring to touch.

"Well…I'd better be going." Cuddy decided suddenly and then whirled to walk away. His hand on her wrist stopped her cold without turning her.

"Cuddy, I…" So many words could have filled that silence. Both true and lied but he eventually settled on the most true that he could actually say, albeit with a little difficulty. "Thanks."

That had her turning to look at him. His hand loosened on her wrist when their eyes met but didn't release her completely. She searched his gaze a moment, looking for something…he didn't know what. Or he did and didn't want to name it for fear of not having it in his possession. She nodded slowly.

"You're welcome. See you Monday." She told him, her voice brooking no argument. She had evidently realised that he had no intention of 'considering' taking on Katy…he couldn't blame her for wanting shot of him…he just didn't know why she insisted on seeing this better part of him that just didn't exist. He would be a crap dad, or even an adoptive father. Katy deserved better. She was young she was cute and she'd find a good home quickly.

He finally let go of her wrist when it became painfully clear that she really wanted to go. "See you Monday." His eventual reply was said to empty air as she swished out of his bedroom, leaving him with an uncomfortable echo in both the room and his chest. He looked down at the baby he couldn't keep and told himself that he wouldn't be sorry to see her go on Monday…damn it all to hell.

_Everybody lies. _His mantra taunted him in the echo of the front door clicking quietly shut.

_Especially him. _


	4. Chapter 4: Not Now Not Ever

_**I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKK!!!!!!!!**_

_**Yes, it's true kiddies, I have returned to the world of the broadband community. **_

_**Rejoice!**_

_**Um, aye, so updates should happen more regularly than once in a blue moon. I will actually be on msn again and…hell I'll even update deviantart as well. I've got some junk, not huddy but I'd thought I'd share anyway. **_

_**Yes, so, I have this chapter and the next one written ready to post, this chapter is a little lighter than the previous ones but I really do find writing angst depressing so there will be some of that in this story but just for a few chapters at a time. If I'm depressed writing it y'all must be suicidal reading it. **_

_**So, some funnies. I think the second half is probably the best House-Cuddy conversation I've ever written and I hope you enjoy it. the next chapter's a funny as well with some blatant Huddy-ness to bash your brain cells with. **_

_**Review me!!**_

_Chapter 4: Not Now, Not Ever_

_Friday Night_

Cuddy knew it was him before she even opened the door. There was only one man that would be standing with a crying baby outside her house at twenty to five in the morning and he was leaning heavily on his cane by the time she staggered her way to the front door and yanked it open on a growl. She found him waving the cab driver off as the engine gunned and the yellow car pulled away from the sidewalk. Taking his avenue of escape with it.

"House, what do you…?"

"She wants you." He stepped closer to her and the sleep fuddled Cuddy had a baby planted in her arms before she could even snuffle in disapproval. House stepped past her. "Lemme in, it's cold out here."

Katy did, indeed, quiet as soon as Cuddy had a proper hold on her. She looked down to make sure she wasn't holding the baby upside down and then shut the door with a quiet click. Katy snuggled in close to Cuddy as best she could, considering all the layers she was wrapped under, and babbled in Cuddy's ear. She was reminded again exactly how unfair this was and followed after House instead to make sure he wasn't destroying anything important. She found him in the living room, sitting on her couch. She watched while he rubbed his leg and popped a vicodin. He looked like ten miles of bad road…more so than usual. Cuddy took the armchair and cuddled Katy close.

"What happened?"

House had sat forward and had his elbows propped on his knees, his head in his hands. He scrubbed his fingers over his eyes as if willing himself to stay awake. "She slept, for about an hour, then she woke up. Screamed for a bit. I picked her up, we limped around for a while, watched some TV, she likes boxing. Then she screamed some more. I fed her, changed her, changed myself. Then…more screaming I think. Some barfing. More screaming and…then we came here."

"She seems alright now." Katy was now fast asleep in Cuddy's arms, curled in towards the fabric of Cuddy's nightshirt.

"Of course she is. It's like taking your car to the mechanic. It makes this funny sound for hours and as soon as you get it to the shop, it's fine." He scowled at Katy. "Runt's contriving to make me insane."

"Yes, even the world's babies are out to get you." Cuddy scowled at him.

"One sleep deprived night at a time." House agreed sagely and Cuddy swept a stray silver curl out of Katy's perfect little face rather than look at him. "So…where do I sleep?"

"In the garage."

"I didn't think you had a garage."

Cuddy looked up with a wicked smile and he made a face at her.

"Meanie. Just for that, you can bunk with the small-and-annoying." He grinned at her then and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Where am I supposed to put her? You didn't even bring her car-seat."

House looked around as if for inspiration and then shrugged. "You don't have a crib?"

"Why would I have a crib?" Her voice was low and dangerous. Daring him to make a comment. He looked up, caught in one of his rare moments of not knowing what to say. He rubbed at the back of his neck and then looked away.

"I dunno…visiting nephews or nieces or something." He mumbled, suddenly inordinately interested in her wallpaper. He blew out a breath. "I'm only asking for you to help me for two more days. It's not gonna kill you."

"I might kill you though." She said darkly and moved to her feet. Needing to move. She shifted Katy in her arms and rocked her gently as she paced up and down. She watched the sleeping baby for a moment. "We'll need to get her something tomorrow."

"Why?" House demanded suddenly. "It's not like I'm keeping her." Her sudden glare had him studying wallpaper again before he forced himself to look back. It didn't matter how she managed to push his teeny tiny guilt button, he wasn't suitable for this fatherhood gig.

Period.

End of story.

Finito.

"Why are you making this difficult? She's a cute kid. She's not mine but she'll find a nice home with two pathetically perfect parents that only argue behind closed doors and she'll be raised to be petty and superficial just like all the other idiots out there."

Cuddy's brows rose with the disdain in his tone and he flopped back against the couch, looking perilously close to a sulk, with his arms flung over the cushions. Scowling up at her with hooded eyes. She padded to the couch and ignored the fact that she was wearing nothing but a tank top and very brief shorts at the moment. She was holding a baby. That should be protection enough, though from what she wasn't quite sure.

"Yeah, you don't mind at all." She drawled to him and his scowl deepened.

"It's not a case of me minding…"

"Save it, House. I'm going to help you but you can keep your lies and excuses." She held up a hand and he fell silent at the cold condemnation in her voice. He had never heard such a desolate tone from her. He ducked his head, finding himself unable to look at her.

"I keep telling you, I'm not as good a man as you think I am."

She laughed then and stood, bundling Katy close to her chest gently. "Oh, I don't think you're a good man, House. I just don't think that you're as bad as you believe you are." She turned to leave, speaking over her shoulder. "The guest bedroom's already made up."

"You knew I would come?" He asked as he stood slowly. She stopped in the doorway and he could just catch the glint of a smile on her lips.

"I knew you'd feel out of your depth." Was all she said, she reached into the room and snapped off the light. Plunging him into the dark. "See you in the morning."

Then she was gone.

House huffed out a breath to the shadows of the lounge and flopped back down onto the couch. He rubbed a hand over his face. Out of his depth didn't even begin to cover it.

**$inister $cribe**

_Saturday Morning_

He'd died…and now he was in hell.

House cast about the crowded store for an exit and wondered if throwing himself out the third floor window was an overreaction.

"Get that cabin fever look out of your eye, House. We've been here five minutes." Cuddy informed him dryly and House turned to scowl at her.

"Five minutes too long in my opinion." He sniffed disdainfully and she rolled her eyes.

"We just have to get a few things to last you the next couple of days and then we can go. If you don't moan it'll only take a few minutes." Cuddy explained –again- and bounced Katy on her hip.

"You in a hurry to be rid of me?" House asked, leaning on his cart. He had been relegated to manpower duties since it was more difficult for him to carry the runt and use his cane at the same time.

"Yep."

"Got a hot date?" House told himself that was most definitely not jealousy in his tone. Then he told himself that he really needed to stop lying to himself…and talking to himself at all while he was at it.

"It's Thanksgiving weekend, House. Those of us that aren't hermits tend to spend the family holidays with, you know, family." Cuddy answered him and threw a couple of baby grows into the cart. Followed by several other items of clothing that House really didn't see Katy going through in the next couple of days. He waited until she had turned away and then exchanged some of the clothes for some, in his opinion, better ones. Including the world's tiniest Jack Daniels tee shirt.

"Your family's coming around. Never met them before."

"Gee, I wonder why that is?" Cuddy muttered and picked up a teddy bear, she waved it in front of Katy. The blonde child giggled and grasped the bear tightly. Decision made, Cuddy let her have it and handed the tag for the bear to House. House glanced down at the price and then just put it in on top of the other stuff, it was probably better if he didn't think about how much this was going to cost him.

"Your sisters?" He asked, better to distract himself with his favourite game. Discover everything there was to know about Cuddy.

"No." Cuddy led him into the food aisle and selected several jars of the same brand that had been in Katy's Bottomless Bag of Baby-things. She dumped them in the cart, added another pack of formula and a sterilising kit for the bottles.

"Your mom?"

Cuddy was quiet a moment and selected a Winnie the Poo dinner set for toddlers. She dropped it into the cart vindictively. She decided every time he asked her a question that she was going to add something ludicrously expensive to the cart. "My father's visiting and he's bringing his new wife and my stepbrother. Okay?"

House shrugged, still leaning over the cart. "Fine. Just making conversation." He grinned at her disarmingly and she narrowed her eyes at him before turning and stalking to the next aisle with Katy and the now thoroughly chewed teddy bear. House watched her go and then prudently put the Winnie the Poo dinner set back on the shelf…and selected one with monster trucks on it instead.

He huffed a breath and then wheeled after her dutifully. Wanting to know more. He caught up with her in the educational toys aisle. She was letting Katy test some rattles and spinning things that developed early motor function apparently. House arched a brow, some of this stuff actually looked pretty fun.

"So…" He opened as innocently as he could. "Nervous about meeting step-mom?"

"No." Cuddy furiously examined the back of the box she was holding, Katy tilted, chewing on the bear's ear, scrutinising the box too. House leant over her and his head came down between theirs as if he too wished to read the back of the box.

"Disapproving then? She's only…five years older than you?" He guessed his cheek almost brushing hers.

Cuddy slapped the box back on the shelf causing both House and Katy to jump. She looked very badly like she wanted to scream at him but swallowed it back with admirable control. She bounced Katy instead and sighed out a frustrated breath through her teeth. "Two years." She said stiffly. Her mouth worked a moment and then she added. "Younger."

House's eyes widened and he prudently stifled the laugh that rose in his throat at her narrowed gaze. She turned away and walked further down the aisle and he couldn't hold back the comment any longer. "Go, dad."

He laughed as she threw a rattle at him.

"Come on, Cuddy, you can't be like this when you meet her. I assume this is the first time you're meeting her." He trundled closer to her with the cart and leant over her so that she had to bend backwards slightly to look up and meet his eyes. "Might as well let it out on someone that can take it." He offered on a grin. "I mean, seriously, has anyone in your family ever _seen_ you when you're really steamed?"

Her sharp glare told him they hadn't. "I bet they don't even know you have a temper." He grinned wickedly at her. "I think someone should warn them. How old is dearest likkle step-brother?"

"He's not actually any relation to me. He's fifteen."

"Better keep the neckline a little higher then." House advised and gained a slap on his arm for his troubles. He didn't care, this was too much fun. Plus, it was distracting him from being trapped in something that was horrifyingly close to a domestic scene. All they needed to do now was meet Hank and Babs from last year's barbecue and their suburban horror would be complete. He suppressed a shudder and returned to his game.

"I'm sure Jordan wouldn't see me that way!" She sounded horrified. Katy giggled, apparently misreading the tone of the conversation…or picking up on House's amusement.

"I assure you that, at fifteen, Jordan's going to be seeing you every way he can imagine."

"You're horrible!" Cuddy told him.

He shrugged. "Yeah, but still right. You should have someone there to protect your virtue." He said sagely and she stilled.

"No." She said warily.

He shrugged. "What? You don't like your family and you've got to have them round to dinner. I like to eat. What a happy coincidence."

She shook her head. "No. You're not coming to dinner." She wheeled the trolley around from the front and then shoved him towards the cash register and subsequent three mile long queue.

"But moooo-oom!" He whined and she shook her head.

"No. She may be a vacuous twit but my father does happen to be rather fond of her and even her hormone-ridden-nympho son doesn't deserve to be subjected to your presence."

He smirked at her knowingly. She was objecting too much. He was winning her over.

"No!" She shook her head finally. Taking her place next to him in the queue. "Not now. Not ever."

House just looked down at her and smiled a great big smile.


	5. Chapter 5: Unexpected Interruptions

_**It occurs to me that this plotline is going to be fairly predictable a great deal of the time. i will promise to try and keep it interesting though with little twists here and there.**_

_**anyways, i just thought i'd post this for y'all since it was all ready and written. I'm going to try to do 'Naked Truth' and 'Night Terror' next. Then possibly my Dresden/House one. since that seems fairly popular with y'all too. **_

**_now, i'm off to bed because i'm starting (groan) fashion tomorrow with the nazi tutor for that delightful subject that's so crap they have to change it every six months. _**

**_oy vey, save me from pouty models with poofy lips. _**

**_gimme reviews and make me feel better, kay?_**

_Chapter 5: Unexpected Interruptions _

Cuddy felt like her face was going to fall off. She retreated to the kitchen and dropped the smile from her lips with a sigh of relief. She worked her jaw gingerly and spied a bottle of vodka for martinis on the counter. Without missing a beat, she picked it up and took a deep pull straight from the neck and grimaced at the strong taste. Lord save her from family. She clinked the bottle back onto the counter. She shook her head to clear it. If she had to listen to that high pitched hyena laugh one more time then she was going to scream.

Carrie. What kind of name was Carrie for a full grown woman?

Don't even get her started on Jordan. Perhaps it had just been House and his comments earlier but she couldn't seem to turn around without the boy averting his gaze and blushing furiously. He had just about died off when she had kissed him on the cheek at the airport. She looked down and yanked at the neckline of her shirt. It stubbornly refused to rise any higher without baring her belly and she wondered briefly if she could get away with changing without anyone noticing. God, this was turning into a disaster.

Cuddy loved her father. She really did. She just loved him more when he was three states away. She tunnelled her fingers through her hair and massaged away the ache she could feel tightening around her skull like a tourniquet for the temples.

"Hey, ladybug, how're you doin'?"

Cuddy lifted her head suddenly and stepped away from where she had been leaning against the counter. Her smile reappeared by sheer force of habit and she slipped into the role of perfect daughter without thinking about it.

"Fine, daddy. Go on back and I'll be through with the drinks in a minute."

Brian Cuddy pursed his lips behind his silvery growth of beard and arched a thick brow at his daughter. She frowned slightly.

"What is it?" She asked warily.

"You still haven't figured it out yet, have you, ladybug?" He stepped towards her. He was a large man. Not overly tall but with presence and a powerful voice that made everyone want to listen. He had always looked huge to her but so approachable. She had felt like she could tell him anything when she had been growing up…she wondered when that had changed. Probably at some time during the horrifically messy divorce her mother had dragged them all through. Determined to make her too handsome husband suffer for his cheating ways.

Brian Cuddy was still a charismatic handsome man. With a chiselled face beneath his manicured beard, dancing blue eyes that Cuddy shared and an infectious grin. Women had always been drawn to him…it was just a shame that most of them tended to be half his age and idiots.

"Figured out what?" She asked finally.

"I can always tell when you're lying."

Cuddy rocked back on her heels and then returned with the smile at full wattage. "Not lying, daddy, I am fine." She tried to sound truthful.

Brian arched the eyebrow again and Cuddy really didn't know what else to say to him. Insisting she was fine worked with everyone else. Why couldn't he just leave it at that?

He sighed. "What am I going to do with you, ladybug?"

Cuddy shrugged as if unsure. "Worshipping the ground I walk on sounds good to me." The doorbell rang and she frowned. Who the hell was that? All the food had been delivered hours ago…except dessert. "I'll just get that, help yourself to whatever you want." She smiled at her father and then practically bolted from the kitchen, skirting Carrie deliberately and snagging her purse on the way to the front door. Thank god for delicatessens. She couldn't cook worth a damn and it was kind of soothing to have someone else do it for her. She threw open the door letting in a blast of cold air and opened her mouth to thank the delivery guy…who had morphed into House…and Katy.

"What the fff…?" Cuddy choked herself off and glared at him.

"Oh, Lisa, I _knew_ you weren't single! Who is this handsome man?" Cuddy turned to stare incredulously at Carrie who had followed her to the front door. Her father's new wife was…exactly the kind of woman that House would go for. Long straight caramel brown hair, grey eyes, distinctive nose that somehow did not detract from her attractiveness and…the all important vacant expression.

House stepped into the void of Cuddy's stunned silence and grinned broadly. "Sorry I'm late, honey." He winked at her and handed her Katy before she could protest. He passed the lemon meringue cake to the idiotically grinning Carrie and then swooped down to press a hot stunning kiss to Cuddy's lips. He pulled away, then kissed her again before smiling and finally shuffling past her into the house. He shut the door and dumped the baby bag out of the way without preamble. Taking advantage of Cuddy's full hands with the impeccably dressed Katy and removing his jacket before she could toss him out on his ass. He had to admit this was probably the dumbest thing he had ever done, but that kiss alone was worth it…plus the look on a certain dean's face. He turned to Carrie and offered his free hand.

"I'm Greg House, I work with Lisa." Carrie took it with a wrinkle of her unfortunate nose and shook it warmly. "I guess she didn't tell you about me."

"No, how neglectful of you, Lisa." Carrie scolded and Cuddy decided there and then that if the woman adopted that patronising tone with her one more time she was going to bludgeon her to death with the roast turkey.

"Hmm, I didn't know Greg was turning up tonight." Cuddy said through gritted teeth that would only have been mistaken for a smile by a complete simpleton.

"Oh well, at least he knows you're happy to see him. That's the first smile we've had all night and who is this delightful bundle?" Carrie bent to inspect Katy who scrutinised the other woman carefully. Katy tilted her head back to look up at Cuddy.

"Eh?" She demanded loudly and Cuddy swallowed a laugh and turned Katy to face her so she wasn't subjected to the great rhinoplastic ski slope currently residing on Carrie's face.

"This is Katy." House explained and ruffled the baby's curls. Cuddy made a mental note to maim him. He put his arm around her shoulders and then slid it down the line of her spine to rest at the small of her back. Revise that, kill him slowly…with a _spoon. _

"Oh, you've got to meet Brian! He'll be so glad to see you." Carrie gushed and then shuffled off to see where her husband was.

Cuddy whirled on House and opened her mouth cut off when he raised a finger.

"Family just a room away." He reminded her brightly and her teeth ground together.

"You're the devil." She finally settled on snarling and he ushered her into the house.

"Don't be like that, Cuddles. You don't mind if I call you Cuddles, do you?"

"With every bone in my body." She gritted and he laughed as if she'd just shared a joke with him. Cuddy was momentarily perplexed until her father's deep voice joined them.

"So this is the man you've been hiding, ladybug!" Brian boomed and Cuddy wished idly for the ground to swallow her whole.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." House bullshitted him boldly with a broad grin on his face and then turned to look at Cuddy out of her father's view. "_Ladybug?!"_ He mouthed incredulously.

"I'm gonna bury him in the backyard." She told Katy in a low tone only for the child's ears. "No one will ever know and…what are you wearing baby-girl?" Cuddy lifted Katy to inspect her and then shut her eyes. She should have known. Only House could have found a slogan shirt for a ten month old baby. Somehow the black tee shirt with _'I've had a wonderful evening…but this wasn't it' _written over it in white block capitals, seemed…appropriate. Anyway, coupled with the tiny jeans and red converse baby sneakers Katy was undeniably the cutest one in the room.

Her gaze moved to inspect House next. He was surprisingly well turned out as well. He had even shaved for the occasion of mortifying her in front of her family. He wore a cream cable knit sweatshirt, black ironed corduroy pants, tan hiking boots, his cane was a stately wooden affair and he'd been wearing his long black overcoat when he'd come in the door. All in all he looked like a respectable doctor who'd just turned up better late than never for his girlfriend's family dinner.

Oh, she was going to _enjoy _killing him.

**$inister $cribe**

This was the best Thanksgiving House had ever had.

He grinned at Cuddy over the top of Katy's head and she scowled back at him when she was sure none of her family would see. He was going to die and he was pretty damn sure that Cuddy would be the one to shove him unceremoniously from this mortal coil but…he couldn't quite bring himself to care. He was having fun. Greg House, misanthropic bastard of the year was actually having fun.

Brian Cuddy was an interesting sort. A rancher up in the north country somewhere, more money than god and a sense of humour that cracked like a whip. Carrie was…exactly as Cuddy had described her, a vacuous twit. Jordan however supplied endless entertainment every time he looked at Cuddy and subsequently turned crimson. The resulting discreet yank upwards of Cuddy's neckline never failed to amuse him and…as long as he was being honest, he might as well admit that playing the doting boyfriend was kind of fun.

Katy had been on top form all night. She had resisted redecorating the dining room with her dinner when fed and was now dozing peacefully against House's chest. Her tiny head tucked under his chin. He was nearly convinced that the doting daddy act he was putting on for the guests was just that…and he _wasn't_ going to be continuing with it behind closed doors either. Everyone was in the firm opinion that she was the cutest baby ever to have existed and House had been on the receiving end of many a respectful glance when he had told the story of recently inheriting the child and being thrown into fatherhood. He skipped over mentioning his plans to pack her off to the orphanage on Monday morning and had received a glare from Cuddy for doing so, but the kiss he had dropped on her nose for it had soon sent her escaping back to the kitchen.

Cuddy, everything else paled in comparison to her. She had been wound tight, he knew, before he had turned up, but now that he was there to loom over her, playing the respectful best boyfriend, she was in a complete flap about when he was going to drop the act. No one else picked up on it, but he did. He could tell by the set of her shoulders. The way she stiffened whenever he put his arm around her (which was as frequently as he could manage it) and the longing looks she shot at the clock every so often. She was playing the fabulous hostess but he knew that she was eager for this evening to end. Getting rid of him was probably way up there on the list of reasons why.

That was another plus. Playing the perfect boyfriend allowed him carte blanch to touch her, kiss her, pay her compliments and otherwise say or do anything to her that he could never say if he were being himself. She would dismiss it as him being an annoying bastard and that was fine. That was partly why he was doing it, seeing how far he could push her, but he did it because he wanted to as well. She was close to cracking, but he couldn't help himself. He was enjoying this too damn much. This was how a normal relationship was, on the surface at least. If he wasn't such a bastard this is what he could have.

He knew that, tomorrow, he would despise the very thought of a family gathering but for now it was exactly what he wanted. Sharing it with her in particular.

Dinner had been a spectacular affair. Impeccable food, flawless manners and that delicious undercurrent of tension when his hand had come down on her leg. Under the table when no one else could see it. She had allowed his touch for nearly three minutes before she had shifted and folded her legs away from him. He had then shuffled his chair closer to hers and draped his arm over her shoulders. She had been stiff at first…but had gradually relaxed when she had realised that he was indeed making polite conversation and that he didn't seem to be trying to shove his hand down her shirt.

House let his fingers trail down her arm again and didn't miss her slight shiver at the contact. She could deny it all she wanted but he was damn sure, deep, deep, down, that she enjoyed him being this close to her. Especially when she didn't have an excuse to pull away. His impromptu presence at the dinner party had meant that they were one seat short in her small lounge, a problem House had solved by pulling Cuddy down to sit on his good leg. After a brief moment of being completely unyielding against him, she had resigned herself to her seat with a sigh and stiffly wrapped her arm over his shoulders. After all, it was the only way she could sit comfortably.

They looked for all the world like a couple perfectly at peace with the casual intimacy they shared. Cuddy sat sideways on his lap, her arm wrapped around him and her other hand resting on Katy's back. His arm was around her waist and his face close enough to her to be able to inhale deeply her delicious scent with every breath. Not to mention how good her curves felt against him. This was torture but it was the most delicious kind of torment.

"This is going well, don't you think?" He leant forward, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. He didn't miss the shiver that coursed through her at the sound of his voice so close to her. She turned her head to look at him, fire dancing in her eyes. She'd never looked so gorgeous.

"You're going to _die."_ She hissed quietly to him.

He just grinned at her. "Yeah, but not tonight."

"I'll find a way." She promised darkly.

"With entire family here to watch? That should be interesting. You gonna bury my body in the basement?"

"I was thinking about just wedging you down the garbage disposal."

"I love it when you talk dirty." He smirked at her and, for a moment, she looked on the verge of smiling back, but then she beat it back.

"You won't love it when you're stuck in clinic for the rest of your natural life."

"That threat's getting old, honey."

"I'm not your honey and you're still afraid of it." She snapped back at him.

"Are we interrupting something?"

Cuddy whipped her head around and blinked at her father. "What?"

"If you want a private conversation, ladybug, just ask us to leave."

Cuddy blinked at her father again. For one long moment she had no earthly idea what her father was saying to her. Then something clicked in her brain and a smile spread across her lips. "Of course not, daddy. Greg was just wondering how to leave politely. Katy's tired."

"I was?" Cuddy's grip tightened on the back of his neck and her nails dug into the sensitive skin there. "I mean, I was!" House grinned at the assembled guests and realised that this meant he'd have to let go of Cuddy.

"Um…problem." Jordan spoke from the window and they all turned to him. It was the first thing he had said all evening. The boy drew back the curtain to show the state of the weather outside. "I don't think anybody's going anywhere."

Snow. Lots and lots and _lots_ of snow covered the ground outside. It must have started right after House had come in the door. It fell in thick fat flakes and had covered everything in a pristine white blanket nearly a foot thick.

"Looks pretty bad." Brian murmured. The man had a weather eye. He had spent most of his time in the great outdoors of big sky country and knew bad weather when he saw it. He turned back to look at his daughter's boyfriend. "Greg, son, I think it would be best if you and the little one stayed here tonight."

"Here?!" Cuddy blurted suddenly and everyone turned to look at her. She was frozen for a moment. Even House had gone completely still under her. "I mean…there aren't enough beds." She said at length. Not a fantastic recovery, but it was all that she was up to at the moment.

Brian chuckled warmly. Completely misreading the situation. "Ladybug, you're a grown woman. I'm not going to get the shotgun out just because your man stays the night with you."

The laugh Cuddy gave then was slightly too high pitched and strangled sounding to be strictly natural and House knew that she was on the edge of complete panic induced hysteria.

"What about Katy? We don't have a crib for her…here." She tacked on after a moment.

"Actually…" All eyes turned to House and Cuddy's narrowed in a venomous glare. This was all his fault. "There's one in you car."

Cuddy gripped the back of the chair tightly between white knuckled fingers. "Really?" Was her voice too high pitched there? She cleared her throat and tried again. "I wasn't aware that we'd bought one today." She gritted softly.

"Yeah, I picked it up in the store and forgot to tell you about it." House bluffed and he held out her car keys to her from where he'd snagged them off the table. "It slipped my mind that it was in the trunk."

Cuddy rose to her feet and plucked the keys from his hand. She smiled at him tightly. It looked like there was no escape from this. She suddenly needed to be out of the room. "I'll just go get it then. Shall I?" She spun on her heel and stalked from the room. She didn't think she'd managed to hide her irritation very well but at least she hadn't murdered him in front of her entire family. She threw open the door to her garage and clicked her way down the concrete steps to get to the car. She was _livid_ now. He was going to pay.

The Lexus barked as she pipped the alarm off and threw open the trunk. Sure enough, there was a fold-away crib tucked still in its plastic wrapping in her trunk. How she had missed him buying it was completely beyond her but there it was. She bent into the interior of the trunk and her eyes landed on the little quilt and pillow set that had been left in there with it. The bastard had planned this all out. She was sure of it. She wasn't entirely certain how he had made it snow, but she was pretty sure that he would have machinated it anyway. She picked up the quilt and buried her face in it.

Then she screamed.

**$inister $cribe**

After several long moments of looking after her, House decided that it might be best to go after her and tell her that this part of the evening had not been planned. He handed the groggy Katy to Brian and then limped after the older man's daughter. Intent on convincing her not to kill him. He walked the length of the corridor and then out through the back door leading to the dimly lit garage. He could see her bent over into the trunk tossing things out of it and onto the concrete floor of her garage and muttering to herself darkly.

"Misanthropic bastard…gonna be doing clinic until he _dies_…planned the whole fucking thing…no idea how he made it snow though."

She turned slowly at his repressed chuckle and he smiled sheepishly. "I didn't actually plan for this to happen." He offered by way of olive branch.

Her slap to his chest told him that she'd rather not accept peace offerings at the moment.

"You bastard!" She hissed at him and continued to land blows on every vulnerable spot she could find, only stopping when he gripped both her wrists in his hands and then pinned her against the rear bumper of her car with his hips hard against hers.

"Cuddy stop!" He ordered her. "I didn't mean for it to go this far if I thought I could get home then I would go but it's nearly a foot of snow out there and there is _nothing _I can do about that so stop hitting me."

"Why should I?" She demanded back, her face a scant inch from his. "You knew tonight was going to be hard for me but you turned up and made it harder for me anyway! Now why should I be the least bit forgiving for that?"

"I've been polite, haven't I? I've never once insulted anyone or said anything inappropriate. I've been the perfect fucking gentleman all evening." He growled back inching closer to her.

"That's the problem! I can't deal with you when you're like this!" She told him hotly but still quietly. "I can't predict what you're going to do when you're acting…_nice."_

"Well, that's not something I ever thought you'd complain about."

"I'll complain about it if I damn well please, Greg House." Uh oh, the use of the full name. Nothing good ever came of that. "All those comments? All those stolen touches and kisses, oh yeah, how dare I be pissed off when somebody toys with my emotions just because he's bored! Acts like he cares when he doesn--!"

Cuddy abruptly found her words cut off by one very hard, very angry man kissing her like a demon. The trunk was slammed shut behind her and she was backed against and over it. His tongue plunged into her mouth, sliding roughly against her own. His fingers delved through her hair, yanking her head back almost brutally and opening her further to his possession of her mouth. They were both angry and not at all worried about being gentle. Her nails scraped down over his jaw and neck and she gripped his shoulder hard enough to bruise. His arm was a band of steel around her waist and his lips were on fire against hers.

Then he was gone.

Cuddy's knees buckled and she sank to the cold floor of the garage. Her chest heaved as she tried to breathe properly. Jesus Christ, the man could kiss! Her head reeled as she tried to make sense of what was up and what was down. Her hand covered her kiss swollen mouth as if to make sure that had really happened to _her. _

He knelt in front of her, gathering his cane, the baby bedding and the crib under one arm. His eyes met hers, angry but there was something else there. Something softer, something…hurt looking.

"Don't _ever_ dismiss me like that again." He warned her and then stood over her. She craned her neck up to look at him and shivered. Not entirely from the cold of the floor either.

He spun on his booted heel and then limped out of the garage and back into the warmth of the house. She watched him go and tried to haul herself back under control. To pull her composure back into place over her shaking hands and trembling limbs. That kiss had been an all out assault on her senses…and she had loved it. Her skin burned while her insides were quivering. Only he could make her burn like this. She looked to the empty doorway that he had disappeared through and swallowed hard. She was both excited and a little bit frightened at the intensity of what was going on between them. They didn't know how to do half measures in their relationship. It was either all or nothing and that kiss had definitely had his all.

She swallowed hard and finally managed to drag herself up to stand wobbly on the concrete that seemed to be rocking under her feet. Her mind had been completely stalled and was taking a while to get back into gear. She wondered what might happen if he happened to put that much intensity into pursuing her…a shiver rent her spine and she closed her eyes against it. That had either been apprehension or anticipation.

Dismiss him?

Not a chance.


	6. Chapter 6: Selfish Motivations

_**Okay, this was sooooo not the way I was meaning to go with this chapter, but I was having so much fun writing this version that I just had to keep this when I got done with it. **_

_**BTW, Brian Cuddy is played by none other than the fabby Brian Cox of 'Long Kiss Goodnight' and 'X-men II' fame. Just so y'all know. **_

_**I think I actually managed to get this quite in character so…yeah. Read and review to cheer me up a little. I'm a tad depressed at the moment. Real life intrudes upon my fantasy world and pollutes a little too much sometimes.**_

_**::sigh: **_

_**Oh, oh, oh and vote for which new fic you want at the end. **_

_**Ciao, $cribe.**_

_Chapter 6: Selfish Motivations_

House limped along the corridor and stopped briefly in Cuddy's room to dump the crib and bedding before turning right around and continuing back down the hallway. Anger lanced him. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this angry. He was enraged. How could she just…? He shoved the thought away and clenched his hand tight around his cane, his knuckles whitened and he succeeded in stilling the shaking in his limbs a fraction. He limped for the backdoor and then stopped. Katy. He didn't know where she was. He turned back through the kitchen and poked his head in the door. Jordan had Katy standing between his legs, he was holding onto her little hands and being careful not to let her fall. House ignored how annoyed it made him feel to see a fifteen year old more at ease with his 'daughter' than he was.

He spun away and barrelled through the kitchen. Claustrophobia suddenly clawing at him. He slid open the back door and sidled out onto the frigid decking beyond. The door clunked softly shut behind him and he huffed out a deeply pent up breath that clouded before him in the air. He shivered, it really was cold out here. He limped out into the moonlight of the garden. His boots crumpling into the snow. He moved carefully until he could lean against the snow garnished railing. Everything was silvery and pale and that deeply silent way it always is when it snows. House sat and watched his lungs give out steam, his arms folded about himself.

The cold leeched into him and slowly lowered the insistent throb of his annoyance. He wasn't really angry at Cuddy. She was right. It wasn't fair of him to act like this towards her. The only reason he'd gotten away with it was because she was a better person than he was and wouldn't cause a scene in front of her family…but when she'd told him that acting the way he had been was just some cheap act…he'd kind of lost it a little.

His mouth still burned from the contact with hers. He could still taste her honey sweet taste on his tongue. Still remembered the feel of her in his arms.

Snow was gathering in his hair and on his shoulders, making him part of the landscape, but he didn't care.

The door slid open and House looked up, prepared to defend himself to Cuddy. It was her father that stepped out onto the deck though. The older man lifted a slim cigarillo to his lips and lit it with a flare of light from a match and a look of concentration on is grizzled face. Brian looked up at House like this was something they did every week night and then blew a smoke ring up into the air towards the falling snow. He offered House a smoke from the silver case and House shrugged. Why the hell not? He took one of the long Cuban smelling cigarillos and leant in to the match that Brian held out for him.

He inhaled deeply, taking in the hedonistic musky smoke. He exhaled through his mouth and let it roll over his tongue to fully taste the depth of his smoke. He looked down at the rolled leaf confection in his hand and stared at it as if weighing it in his mind. He wasn't thinking about the cigarillo though.

"You had a fight."

House looked up in surprise. It wasn't a question. He lifted his cigarillo and inhaled deeply again. "I suppose." He answered. He may have been polite all night but he wasn't about to be brow beaten by anyone. Even Cuddy's bear of a dad. He wondered if he was going to get a smack for upsetting the darling girl.

"Why do you think that is?" Brian wondered out loud and House arched a brow. He was on the verge of telling the older man where to get off. That it was none of his business. His daughter was a grown woman that could slay her own grumpy diagnosticians.

"Having you around puts her on edge." He found himself saying instead.

Brian's hand stilled. The glowing ember of his cigarillo burning stationary in the dark night. He was almost completely silhouetted against the golden light spilling from the kitchen. "I know." Brian stepped out into the deck proper and met House's eyes without flinching. An impressive skill given that House looked ready to trash something, person or thing. "Why do you suppose that is?" He asked again.

House shrugged and then realised he knew. "She thinks she has to be perfect for you." House took another long drag of smoke. "Do you know she has a hell of a temper?"

"I know she's like her mother that way." Brian smirked than and leant back against the railing next to House like they were old friends. He looked up to watch the snowflakes dance into the light in swirling untraceable patterns and spoke without looking at House. "You're good for her, I think."

House laughed bitterly before he could help himself and then remembered that he was supposed to be the perfect boyfriend. Why wouldn't he be good enough for Cuddy then?

"Oh don't get me wrong, boy, you're far from perfect…but she doesn't want perfect. I think she wants someone who'll allow her to be human for once. She's never really paid attention to a man before. No one's ever really caught her eye quite the way you evidently have. Worth a thought, no?" Brian continued to watch the snow overhead. Pretending not to notice how House was staring at him. A movement beyond Brian, and inside the house caught House's attention. He leant forward slightly to see Cuddy holding Katy again. Bouncing her on her hip, still looking a little pale after their encounter in the garage but smiling at the giggling baby in her arms. Brian turned to follow his scrutiny.

"Yep, looks good doesn't it?"

House didn't see the harm in answering. "Yeah, it does."

Brian nodded and stubbed his cigarillo out in the snow on the railing. "You remember that when you think about pushing her away again." Brian informed him with steel as an undertone to his voice. He levered himself away from the railing and strolled back into the house leaving the younger House to stare after him and lift a cigarillo to his mouth with a hand that wasn't entirely steady.

House exhaled on a shiver and he'd thought _he_ was hyper observant.

**$inister $cribe**

Cuddy had her hands wrapped around a huge mug of tea and was desperately trying to come up with a reason to wade out of her house into a snow drift and avoid everybody for…well, the rest of her life was convenient for her really. She stared at the phone clunked to the kitchen wall and _willed_ it to ring. Sod's Law, being what it was, the stubborn scrap of technology remained sullenly silent and Cuddy scowled at it. Then sighed cavernously. The one time she needed an emergency to drag her away from her family and everything was apparently running smoothly.

Damn it all to hell.

"You got anything that's not herbal tea?"

Cuddy nearly leapt three feet into the air at the deep baritone right in her ear. She whirled, tea sloshing over her hand and swore at the scald.

"Jeez, you're high strung." He scolded her, taking the cup from her and switching the tap on to blast cold water into the sink. His larger hand engulfed hers and pulled it under the frigid water.

"Gee, I wonder why that is." She snapped at him, her cheeks scored with a high blush. She wasn't sure if it was because she was telling herself she was angry at him or if it was because of the way his fingers were smoothing over her skin under the cold torrent.

"All that caffeine."

Was he _smirking?!_

"Oh, come on, that was a little funny." He pulled her hand out from under the tap and scrutinised the flushed skin carefully, his thumb smoothing over the swatch of skin that hadn't been subjected to an impromptu herbal scalding and carefully patting dry with a nearby hand towel. Her breath caught when their eyes met. Anyone looking in would think he was the dutiful lover looking after his clumsy bed mate…hell, Cuddy was having a hard time reminding herself that real life held a great deal less romance between them. He reached up unerringly to where she stashed a tiny first aid kit above the fridge and pulled some cream for the burn.

"House, it's not that…" Cuddy's voice trailed off on a gulp when he smoothed some cool cream over her hand. His long fingers dancing over her skin and rubbing in the ointment. Cuddy reminded herself that it would be a bad idea to throw scalding hot tea over herself in hopes of a repeat performance. At the very least, her skin would look terrible. "…bad." She made herself finish and he smiled at her.

"No." He agreed amicably enough. "But you'll just get even more pissed at me if you've got a sore hand as well. I assure you, my motives are purely selfish."

Oh Lord.

How could he stand there and say the same narcissistic, misanthropic comments that he said to her everyday and somehow make it sound like he was making love to her, hot sweet and slow with every syllable?

Cuddy could drown in those eyes. He leant over her, his hands brushing her hips and resting on the counter top. She inhaled a shaky breath and could taste nothing but him. His eyes held hers and she couldn't have looked away if her life depended on it. She trembled, unable to stop and uncaring if he saw. She shouldn't be doing this, some small part of her informed her, it wasn't right. He was still a bastard. He was still her co-worker, her colleague, her subordinate…but she wanted so much to believe the lie.

She saw the kiss coming this time. He gave her ample time to move away. To turn her cheek, to make some comment that would break the mood. He put that single all-important instant in her hands, expecting her to drop it, throw it away, do anything but hold onto it.

She held it though, gently, her eyes meeting his, dropping to his mouth and then back to his eyes again. Telling him without words. This was what she wanted. His body loomed closer to hers. She could feel the heat he was throwing off. Feel it through the silk of her shirt, the wool of his sweater. His forehead brushed hers, giving her every chance to pull away, to deny him, as if he expected that punishment from her. They were _so_ close, his nose sliding against hers, nuzzling up against her, breath mingling. He would taste of smoke, she knew, she could already smell it on him. Mixed with the beer he'd had earlier, the meal from the deli and that unique flavour that would only be him.

Their lips brushed, a single electrifying contact and…

"Hey, guys, I…aw crap."

Both House and Cuddy shuddered to a halt and Cuddy cleared her throat to try and mask the disappointment and annoyance rocketing through her. In that instant, she could have quite happily maimed her step-brother. Jordan was scrubbing a hand through his unruly hair, blushing furiously and looking anywhere but at the couple in front of him. Cuddy's heels clicked back down onto the linoleum kitchen floor. She hadn't even realised she'd been up on her toes, eager to meet House more than halfway.

Probably just as well.

Probably.

"What is it Jordan?" House's hand was still on her waist and he couldn't quite seem to muster the willpower to let go. She hid a smile at that and looked beyond him to her chronically embarrassed step-brother.

"Just to let you know that Katy's down in her crib but she's fussing for you." He stuffed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. "And dad says goodnight to both y'all."

"Okay." Jordan spun on his sock soled foot and scurried out of the kitchen as fast as he could into the already dark living room where he would be bunking on the couch.

House looked back at her and Cuddy couldn't stop the shiver race up her spine at the way his eyes smoothed over her like a physical caress.

"Time for bed." He told her, his thumb smoothing small circles at her hip.

"Yeah."

What else could she say?

**$inister $cribe**

House limped through from the bathroom, dressed in his jeans and the spare tee shirt he'd brought in anticipation of the fun and games that he associated with feeding Katy. It had remained clean, since she had been a veritable angel and not shown off her talent for projectile vomiting at the dinner table, and would have to serve as pyjamas.

"You're keeping your jeans on?" Cuddy frowned at him, already dressed in what he knew to be the biggest, least provocative nightwear she owned. Unfortunately for her, that meant an oversized tee shirt that kept slipping off to reveal the curve of one creamy shoulder and a _tiny_ pair of tartan shorts. She looked adorable (adorable?! He really should get an appointment for a therapist and this midlife crisis of his) and ready for some serious mussing.

And House _really_ wanted to muss her.

"Is that how you usually sleep?" She asked again when he said nothing.

"Nope. I usually sleep in the buff, if you'd prefer that then…" House flopped on the bed and made as if to undo his belt, her hand snapped over his before he could though and, even in the dim light filtering from the soul small lamp in the room, he could see the flush stain her cheeks when she snatched her hand away. He only allowed himself to grin when she turned away and stalked around the bed. He frowned when she sat down on the floor.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for bed."

"You're on the floor."

"I'm aware of that, House."

"Yeah, but _why_ are you on the floor?" He demanded, hauling himself back up to his feet and limping painstakingly around to stand over her, checking on the deeply sleeping Katy in the crib on his way past.

"Well, I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor, you're leg…"

"Will be fine for sharing a bed with you so long as your gigantic ass doesn't roll over onto it. Now get up."

She scowled at him. "I'm not sharing a bed with you."

"It's a double bed!"

"Keep your voice down and that's not the point." She hissed at him.

"Fine." He hissed back. "What is the point?"

"It would be…inappropriate." She finally settled on and avoided his 'oh really?' look that he sent her way.

"Cuddy, get in the damn bed. There's more than enough for me, you and your ass." He held out his hand, fully expecting her to take it. Cuddy rolled her eyes, not buying it, tugged her blanket up around her shoulders and flopped down onto the floor, fully prepared to sleep through this conversation if she had to.

"Oh yeah, you're going to ignore me, that's _real_ mature." He snarked at her. Cuddy huffed, apparently of the opinion that he was the last one to be lecturing her on immaturity and snuggled deeper under the angora comforter she'd swiped off the end of her bed. House glared down at her. "You're going to sleep in the bed." He told her quietly.

"Uh-huh, and what are you gonna do about it—_yipe_!" Cuddy squeaked and scrabbled for a handhold when she suddenly had twin bands of steel wrapped under her knees and behind her shoulders. House hauled her up in one fluid motion and let the momentum carry her as he let go almost as soon as he'd gotten a good grip.

She flew through the air and tumbled onto the bed with a thump and a groan from the springs. Cuddy growled in low challenge at being manhandled in her own damn bedroom, sprang up into a sitting position and huffed the wild mass of her hair out of her eyes. She looked up and saw House leaning against the end of her bed, one hand gripping his bad leg and watching her, breathing hard. He pointed at her.

"You're sleeping in the damn bed." He told her.

Cuddy could only stare. She wanted to know why it mattered so damn much but refrained from asking. No doubt it would lead to further argument. She settled for inching under the covers with as much dignity as a just tossed woman could and thumped the pillow with her fist for good measure. She appeared to ignore the dip in the mattress behind her and the tightening of the quilt over her body. He hadn't climbed under it with her. He let her ponder that for a while and snapped off the light.

It was a full five minutes of stiff backed silence before her guilt got the better of her.

"Does your leg hurt?"

"Every day."

"I meant more than usual."

"I know."

A small feminine growl of annoyance. "Are you cold?"

"Gonna warm me up if I am?"

"Fine. Freeze for all I care. My life would be simpler." Another growl. He felt her shift and could just make out the darker black of her shadow shrinking in on itself. There was the faintest tremor from her side of the mattress. House lifted his head and scrutinised her through the gloom of near pitch black in the room. That faint tremble again. The blanket slid down over his chest. He had taken it from the floor and it was enough protection for him from the chill of the late night house.

She was cold - shivering, in fact - and too damn stubborn to turn up the thermostat without him admitting he was cold too. Ugh, women! Or, rather, one woman in particular. House narrowed his eyes at her back.

"House, whatever talents you may have in the bedroom, night vision isn't one of them, so quit staring at me."

He grinned. "How can you tell?"

"I can feel it."

House pursed his lips. That was an invitation for all kinds of things. He wondered how far he could push his luck with her tonight. Further than ever before already but there was something to be said for world records. He slid across the quilt and pressed his body right up against hers through the layers of duvet between them. His arms came around her from behind and he wrapped his blanket over her as well.

"What are you doing?!" She squeaked in a high pitched whisper. He loved that little sound of shock from her.

"Keeping you warm. You're freezing."

"Am…" She had obviously meant to say 'not' in an erudite Dean of Medicine manner, but trailed of breathlessly when his stubble roughened cheek came down against hers. He was like a furnace behind her, enclosing her in his arms and his warmth.

"Better?" His lips moved against the delicate shell of her ear and Cuddy shivered again. This time not from the cold.

"Why…?"

"Because if you're shivering then I can't sleep and I need all the REM I can get with the little diapered terrorist determined to drive me insane through sleep deprivation. If you're awake. I'm awake." He held her tighter, pulling her back against his chest, sliding his leg over hers to pin her down under him and wrap her up completely. Odd, when other men had tried this, she'd felt trapped. Now all she felt was warm, protected, cherished even.

Oh Lord, was she old enough to be having a midlife crisis yet?

House snuggled closer to her again and she could feel his smirk as he spoke again.

"Don't worry, my motives are still entirely selfish."

**$inister $cribe**

_**::IMPORTANT BULLETINS::**_

_**The 'Naked Truth' is being taken over by one Scarlett Scribble (my fellow smut bunny) I will be onlooking in a sort of Beta/advisory capacity because I was going to delete it but she liked it enough to take over. I would say we were gonna co-write but I'm letting her do all the work for it so…yeah, future reviews should be addressed to her too. **_

_**I have THREE new story ideas for the huddy in the pipelines. Count 'em. **_

_**3**_

_**Yeah, so, they're all WAY out there. The first one is about House being cursed by a witch (you may remember this theme from my doomed Halloween fic last year) and getting turned into a dog (NOT in last year's fic). Cuddy ends up taking him in…but every time he gets 'excited' he turns back into a very House-ish, very naked shape (are you finding that I like them naked in my fics?). **_

_**Behind door number two we have a fic about House and Cuddy being sent back in time to Western/Frontier America. House goes all cowboy and Cuddy finds her inner burlesque dancer. Very magical, quite fantastical and I've never done a period drama before. **_

_**The third is inspired by both the film 'My Super Ex-Girlfriend' and the 'OH MY GAWD!' moments in episode 8 of season 4. Lawl. Basically, Cuddy's a superhero, House finds out and all the fun goings on behind that. **_

_**I WILL write all of these but I wanted to get feedback on the ideas first. Any particular requests on the order I write them, or any ideas for tweaking them a little are welcome. Feel free to email me or drop it in a review for this or something. Whatever works for ya. **_

**HIT THAT PURPLE BUTTTOOOOOONN!!!!**


	7. Chapter 7: Taking Matters In Hand

_**Okies, since y'all went kinda nuts for this story I thought I'd better update. It is currently my favourite at the moment though I am going to update 'Night Terror' as soon as I get a decent plot bunny in my snare…which should be any day now. **_

_**This one's for Scarlett (happy birthday bubs!!!) and all the other Lisabos out there (I am such a lesbian for that woman [Lisa E…it's unhealthy).**_

_**Uuuuuhh…yeah, chapters are short but you'll be seeing the other ((ahem)) side of this soon enough. lawl. I was squirming when I wrote the ends scene so…heh, I hope you all enjoy and I bestow a little of my frustrations upon y'all. **_

_**((evil smirk))**_

_**just so ye all know, the House as a Dog story is winning, so if you desperately want one of the other ones I suggest you get your finger out and hit that purple (alright so it's blue) button and lemme know!!**_

_**ciao, $cribe **_

_Chapter 7: Taking Matters In Hand_

House woke slowly from the best night's sleep he'd had in years to the sound of soft babbling. He cracked open an eye to find blinding white fingers of light forcing their way through chinks in the curtains and falling over the bed. The room was cool, a testament to both the early hour of the morning and the still arctic conditions outside. His eyes landed next on a tousled blonde head poking up over the railing of her crib. Katy gave him a gummy grin and bounced on her legs, gripping the railing to keep from falling. She wasn't walking herself yet, but she wasn't far off it either. It was a smart kid he was…

Giving away.

House scowled.

Tomorrow.

His scowl deepened and that ever helpful voice of denial told him it was because his leg was sore.

Another soft sound, a low moan much closer to him than Katy was, issued not far from his ear. He turned to find Cuddy, curled in the shadow of his body and didn't miss the opportunity to drink the sight of her in. She looked gorgeous. At peace. Blissful and content. He reached out and smoothed a stray raven curl out of her face. Her hand moved, coming to rest against his chest over his heart. She gave another small moan and then gravitated towards him, snuggling closer into his heat. Burying her face against his chest and rubbing her nose back and forth, inhaling his scent deeply. House smirked, eyes shuttering in the enjoyable sensation of a very curvy, apparently happy to see him, woman rubbing herself up against him. It would be better if they were both naked and without a small babbling chaperone at the end of their bed, but House would take what and where he could get it.

He could tell the exact instant she woke up and realised what she was doing. Her knuckles whitened, fisted in his shirt and her spine turned to steel. She pried herself away from his chest with as much dignity as she could muster and peeked up at him.

She smiled slightly, shyly, trying to edge away.

"Good morning."

He smirked at her and clamped his leg a little tighter over hers to prevent her from wriggling away. She had turned to face him in the night and he was taking that as a sign. He liked her like this, all soft and sleep mussed. She was so useless before her first hit of caffeine. He could practically see the messages scrolling in her brain. Something was wrong about this situation. She had to get away from him and get out of the bed, but she couldn't seem to remember why.

He laughed.

She turned to look up at him. Frowning, slightly, her lips pursing slightly in a pout he wanted to kiss. Those stolen tastes of her weren't enough from last night. He wanted more. He was beginning to think that it would never be enough where she was concerned.

"What?" She grumbled and reached up to pat a hand over her hair. "Everybody gets bed-head." She defended herself and he chuckled again, rolling slightly so she tipped towards him in the dip in the mattress. He saw her pupils dilate in those sea green eyes of hers when he loomed over her. Her breath caught.

"What?" This time it was a whisper. His head dipped to hers. The most natural thing in the world.

"I just realised something." He spoke against her skin, absorbing the heat of her. Female and sensuous. Addictive. He wanted more. She arched under his lips, wanting more contact, wanting him.

"Hmm?"

He could tell she wasn't really paying attention to his answer but he told her anyway.

"I love you."

**$inister $cribe**

House bolted upright in the bed, chest heaving and a cold sweat slicking his skin. He stared about himself wildly, not knowing where he was immediately and felt his heart hammering under the wall of his chest.

A dream. It was fine. It had only been a dream.

A dream in which he had told his boss that he loved her.

"Mmm." Cuddy mumbled in her sleep and rolled over, her arm looping across his hips as she sighed in her sleep. House smothered a yelp and back-pedalled furiously, not stopping until he slithered to a graceful heap on the cold floor. He scrambled to his feet and double checked she was still asleep. If she was asleep then she couldn't see him panic.

"Fuck." He said quietly to himself. Snatching up his Vicodin and popping one in a smooth practiced motion. He looked back at Cuddy, still blissfully unaware on the bed. He took another pill. "Fuck." If it was worth saying once, it was worth saying again. He looked up at the ceiling, why had Logic forsaken him. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck fuck...FUCK." He hissed at the light fitting and then cast about the room for inspiration. The sudden need to be anywhere but here high on his priority list of the day.

"Bah!"

House whirled and his eyes landed on the larva. "You!" He spoke quietly but venomously and limped over to loom over the tiny blonde infant in the crib. He waggled a finger in her face. "This is all _your_ fault, you misbegotten progeny of idiots."

Katy stood, holding onto the crib railing with both hands, watching his finger with a look of morbid fascination and then pounced. She latched onto his hand and carefully examined the digit from every angle.

House sighed, sweet Logic mother of Reason, he couldn't even intimidate a foetus that had lost its amateur status.

"I was perfectly happy being miserable until you came along." He informed the diapered ball and chain. Katy chewed on his finger and hummed in the back of her throat. "And you can stop being cute." He informed her coolly. "I'm immune to it."

"Greg…shut up."

House nearly leapt out of his skin at the mumbled comment from under the duvet on the bed. Cuddy rolled over and House watched, every muscle clenched in preparation to flee, should it come to that, and relaxed with a sigh when she simply rolled over and settled back into a deep motionless sleep. House watched her and felt nothing but…relief.

He arched a brow. Maybe it had just been a dream after all. Some garbage his subconscious had dredged up to keep his brain ticking over between sleeping and waking. Wouldn't be the first time he'd had a dream that would have made Dali proud. House edged around the bed to Cuddy's side and decided an experiment was in order. Surely seeing Cuddy, the real live, flesh and blood devil woman would cure him of any lingering doubts over whether or not he actually held her in any (shudder) affectionate regard?

House looked down at her and took in the way she was sprawled sideways across the bed, taking up as much space as possible, hair tumbling wild and unfettered over the pillow, her body relaxed in slumber and her arms wrapped around a pillow that she had scrunched under most of her torso as well as under her cheek. House snagged the end of the duvet in the hook of his finger and edged it up and away from her. Had he been doing this for any other purpose than to check that he was most definitely _not_ in love with her, then his eyes would have probably spent a considerable amount of time roving over the sleek line of her back exposed by the way her over sized tee shirt had rumpled up over her shoulder blades during sleep. Not to mention the way that fantastic ass was filling out those teeny tartan shorts.

Okay, so he might have copped a quick look. After all, how many chances was he likely to get?

His eyes landed on her face and a smile spread across his lips. She looked absolutely adorable all rumpled from sleep like that. Quite sexy too the way her hair fell down over one thickly lashed eye and…

"Oh…fffffff--!!"

House dropped the duvet, practically vaulted over the bed and sidled into the bathroom before his leg even had time to register the abuse it was being subjected to. He shut the door behind him with an abbreviated slam and slapped back against the door, gripping his hair in his hands. His eyes were shut and screwed tightly that way. His teeth clenched and his lips drawn into a thin white line. He opened his eyes long enough to locate and snag a pile of (lilac, of all colours) towels and stuff his face into them.

Then he howled his anguish into the cloth.

**$inister $cribe**

Cuddy lifted her head and frowned. She had thought she'd heard something odd. She was cold too, the duvet had flopped down off her shoulders. She pulled her tee shirt down over her stomach and shivered slightly, why was her house so damn cold?

She chose tactfully chose not to admit that she had been perfectly cosy under House's arm when he had been next to her. Where was he anyway…?

Probably getting coffee.

Cuddy smiled and waved at Katy, who babbled happily to herself in her crib. Katy giggled and bounced on her legs, grinning at Cuddy.

"Hey, baby-girl, how are you this morning?" Cuddy crawled to the end of her bed and lifted Katy from within the confines of the crib. She was very young, a tiny bundle, but she already had a personality. Likes and dislikes. Pretty high up on her list of dislikes was being confined anywhere. Cuddy settled Katy on her knee and wriggled backwards over the bed and back under the glorious warmth of the duvet, much better.

Katy snuggled up against her and sighed against Cuddy's neck.

"You like staying with House, don't you?" Katy was sprawled over Cuddy's chest and her little feet kicked somewhere over Cuddy's navel. She laughed at Cuddy. The doctor decided to take that as a 'yes'.

"I'll let you in on a secret." Cuddy spoke and stroked silky silvery blonde hair.

"I do too."

**$inister $cribe**

"Okay, big fella, get a hold of yourself." House stared his reflection squarely in the eye and ignored the fact he was sweating. He had forced his voice into a cheerful tone and recognised how distinctly odd it sounded coming from him. "You're having a slight…crisis…of the midlife variety. Perfectly normal, guys go off the deep end everyday." He nodded to himself and gripped the sink tighter with both hands.

Why did she have to have a _purple_ bathroom?

House's mind raced. There had to be an explanation for this. If he was in love with Cuddy then he would have realised a lot sooner than twenty years after meeting her. He was a little bit more intelligent than that…at least, he liked to think so. He looked up at his face reflected back in the mirror and frowned…then again, maybe not. This was the man that had picked unending pain and a vicodin habit over a simple prosthetic leg.

He sighed.

Right, let's think about this logically. He couldn't actually be _in_ love with her. That would be stupid. She'd never accept him, for a start. Another stellar reason to forget this morning had ever happened. He scrubbed a hand over her face, so she was attractive and he felt a certain level of…_attachment_ to her. Nothing more. That, coupled with the fact that she had a truly zesty bod, meant that he might, possibly, probably, perhaps mistake some misdirected lust for…that other feeling that he wasn't even going to think about anymore.

That was it, good healthy, sexual frustration.

House smirked at himself, pleased at his rationalisation.

That was all. He was preoccupied with her ass. Nothing wrong with that. House sidled towards the shower and decided to make it a cold one to that effect…at least he had until he realised exactly how cold a cold shower really was. He flipped the dial to hot and stood under the needling hot spray. It felt good thundering down over his head and shoulders like that. He pressed his hands against the slick tiled wall, keeping his eyes closed so as not to be offended by the ridiculous shade covering every square inch of the room.

He turned and braced his hands against the slick tiled wall of the shower stall and let his fingers flex against the unfeeling ceramic. Hot water stabbed him in the back and sluiced down the line of his spine. Dripping down over the long lea lines of his legs and pattering to the floor of the shower around his feet. He was a little miffed still that he'd been forced from his comfy position wrapped around Cuddy and into the cold tiled bathroom. He'd been perfectly content snuggled up against her curves and…

House grunted in annoyance and finally opened his eyes to locate the shower gel. Squeezing a dollop into his palm he worked up a thick lather and sidled out from under the spray to smooth it over his body. He washed mechanically letting his mind wander over the events of the night before.

Even with the thickness of the eiderdown duvet between them, House had been as up close and personal with her as he could manage. He could still feel how warm she had been under him, how she'd fitted perfectly under his arm, his leg resting over the curve of her hip. She'd slept peacefully, her cheek under his, but they must have both moved in the night, because he'd awoken to her arms wrapped back around him. He'd been sure of it.

That fucking bed sheet…

House thought about what had been under that. Under the eiderdown and the comforter and the too big tee shirt. She may have been pushing thirty eight but she still had that tight body that could make him drool. Her curves lush and sleek at the same time. That tee shirt riding up over her back, the curve of her breast had just been visible to him, voluptuous and tempting. Begging him to touch. The gentle s-curve of her spine, a track between the muscles of her back, he imagined he'd be able to feel each delicate bone under his fingers if he had traced her. If he'd been able, he'd have kissed each one.

And her ass in those tiny tartan shorts. House would write poetry to that ass. Love songs and sonnets and worship on his hands and knees…or preferably when she was on her hands and knees and he had a handful of those luscious curves.

His soap slick hand brushed the straining head of his cock and he hissed out an involuntary breath.

Jesus Christ, he hadn't even realised the physical effect his thinking had brought on he'd been that wrapped up in his thoughts of her.

He looked down at himself, it had been a long time. Must have been for him to get as randy as a teenager in her shower while she slept blissfully unaware in the next room. His cock jumped and he gritted his teeth, stifling a groan. Just the thought of going back through to that bedroom and crawling back into bed with her was enough to have him on a knife edge.

He tried to think of something else. Of anything else. His library of porn, sassy photos in magazines, hot starlets half his age…anything but a dark haired blue eyed female that was sprawled in baggy pyjamas in the next room.

She kept wheedling her way back into his mind though. The quirk of her lips when she was trying not to smile at him. The curl of her hair and the way it caught the light. The fit of those tight, _tight_ skirts of hers. The flash of those big blue eyes of hers. The way she could look so angry and so hot for him at the same time.

House looked down at his new salutation to rising and shining and grimaced. Well _that _wasn't going to subside on its own. He scowled.

"Go away." He told it.

No response other than a steady throb.

House sighed, he supposed there was nothing else for it. He was going to have to jack off in Cuddy's shower and fantasise about her to do it.

_Uh-huh, and this is different from every other morning this week…how?_

House chose to ignore the fact that the voice in his head was getting louder and was even beginning to sound a little bit like Wilson. His fingers lightly curled around the satin steel of his erection and his breath hissed out in a long, low, barely audible groan. Damn, it was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it.

His head fell back against the shower wall and he fisted himself slowly, lightly, gently does it. His hand was a poor substitute for what he really wanted, but he didn't think he'd get away with dragging Cuddy in here and pushing her up against the wall of the shower. His teeth dug sharply into his lip and he growled as that image took shape in his powerful mind. He edged his legs a little further apart, his other hand reaching down to cup his balls and layer that sensation on top of the first.

Oh god, yeah. He'd pull her in here, still mussed and confused from sleep. He knew she needed her caffeine to function in the morning. She'd be stumbling, leaning against him, unsure of herself. not understanding what he was after until she was eye deep in his situation. House gasped, easing off the pressure, wanting this to last.

He could see how they'd both be squeezed up close and personal in the stall. Her hands pressed against the steamed glass, leaving prints and streaks of clear glass. She'd struggle at first, not wanting him, or rather, not wanting to give herself to him. All that wild hair would get plastered down against her head and shoulders in slick glossy curls. he'd whip it out of the way, laving kisses on her neck, shoving aside the neckline of - what would now be a soggy oversized tee shirt - and baring his teeth against her shoulder. Marking her.

He imagined how the thin cotton of her pyjamas would plaster onto her like a second skin. The white of her tee shirt becoming translucent. The darker blush of her nipples, the generous curves of her breasts, clearly visible through it. It would be nice to look at, but it would have to come off. He'd pull it up and over her head, she'd be eager by this point. Sensation taking over.

House gritted his teeth and rolled his head back against the shower stall. The tendons in his neck standing out. He was so close, so damn near to tumbling over that razor sharp edge. Not yet though, he wanted more.

What next?

Oh yeah, the tee shirt's off now it's time for those should-be-illegal-they're-so-tiny shorts to be gone from his sight. He'd kneel behind her. Listening to her whimpers, desperate mewls for him to take her. Hook his thumbs in the waistband and slide them down over her long legs. Toned, sleek and smooth and made for wrapping around a man's hips. His hips in particular.

He imagined being at eye level with the flushed, damp, heat of her sex. Would he be able to resist tasting her? Of course not. How would she taste?

House groaned, tilting forward, one hand resting against the shower stall. His arm bracing his weight. His fingers wrapped soapy and slick around his shaft sending little flares of pleasure up his spine to burst in his brain, building to the all important moment. His elbow folded and he slid forward, forehead braced against his forearm. Panting as water battered down over his head, slicking down over his face, dripping from his parted lips.

She'd taste of heat. Of hot delicious female and he'd never get enough of her. Honeyed and tangy and addictive. He thought about how he'd thrust his tongue inside her, the cry she'd give at his invasion. Maybe his name…yeah, she'd call him by name. His first name, the one she never used. He'd kiss her, wetly, messily, lapping her cream, adding his fingers to the mix when his tongue wasn't enough. Teasing her until she twisted and arched, nails scraping the glass of the stall.

_Greg,_ she'd say, _now._ A command, a plead with him.

Up on his feet, pressed up behind her, the jut of his cock nestled against that marvellous peach of a backside she had. His hands smoothing down her sides, gripping her hips. His chest against her narrow shoulders, one arm braced along hers, fingers laced together on the glass. Her back twisting so she could look at him, her mouth finding his. Her moan when she would realise she could taste herself on his lips. Shifting his angle, gripping her hip and lunging forward. Thrusting into white hot heaven.

House bit his own arm rather than shout out his release. His cock pulsing, coming in long draining jets over his hand and belly. Sticky white fluid and suddenly very much alone. The strength left his legs and he slid to the puddle floor of the stall. Dimly aware of using up all the hot water but too entranced by the way the water was raining down over him, washing away the soap and the evidence of his lust.

Lust he could never act on. Lust she might return but would never give back. Not now, not now that he was so broken. So defective. She deserved better. Would've had better if he'd stopped interfering in her life a long time ago. He reached up and switched off the water. Letting it peter to a stop and feeling the remaining damp trickle down over his skin in that prickling sensation of too cleanness.

So sated was he, that he didn't notice the pair of bare feminine feet on the other side of the glass door, dimly visible through the haze of steam and water droplets. He didn't notice them spinning and dashing away and he certainly didn't notice the soft click of the door shutting stealthily behind them.

House scrubbed a hand over his face and got rid of most of the water there. He ruffled his wet hair as well and thought about what he'd just done. Fantasising was nothing new for him but it was usually bimbos, vacuous twits and women he didn't know. Fantasy broads for a fantasy situation. House didn't really see the point in tormenting himself with what-could-have-been's or what-might-yet-be's. He stared fixedly at the last of the suds slipping down the plughole and his denial seeming to go with it.

He loved Cuddy.

Shit.


	8. Chapter 8: Oh My GAWD

**Okies kids, this is really just a filler chapter mainly. Not quite sure how I feel about it. Been up for the last eighteen hours or so and just polished it now, so a little fatigue crazy, just watched the last half of the last season of the West Wing back to back. **

**((weeps that it's over))**

**um, okay, I know I haven't been so much with the updates lately but…well, basically I'm going through a bit of a family divorcing thing at the moment and I've not had the time to sit down and get my head to a place where I can think about imaginary people's problems when I've got a few gazillion of my own to deal with.**

**However, the pity parade is over, I'm picking myself up and moving on. Hell, if all else fails, leave the country. **

**Hope you enjoy this chapter even though it's not beta'd (I'm a beta reader by the way so if any of y'all need some help and think I can I'd be glad to offer it, just look up my profile thingy on the tab on this here site) aaaaannd…..leave me lots of nice reviews. **

**Luv n hugs, cribe. **

_Chapter 8: Oh My GAWD_

House glared at his breakfast and tried to decide which bit of food to beat into submission first. He had narrowed down the choices between the scrambled eggs or toast. His fork hovered over the toast as he debated the killing blow.

"Your in love."

"Die." House answered cheerfully and stabbed his fork down viciously into the toast. If bread had been blessed with a mouth it would have let loose an agonised scream. He _hated_ being in love. It was a plague. A pestilence. A great big _pink_ pestilence that sweeps over humanity subjecting them to sickening displays of _emotion._ At the moment, he wasn't entirely sure if he was talking to his toast or the insipid Carrie, who was hovering over him with a jug of orange juice in one hand. House reminded himself that killing her with said same jug was not a good idea as he did sort of have to keep up the dutiful boyfriend if he wanted to get out of here alive.

He was pretty sure that Brian, as a rancher, would have a shotgun in that big old truck of his. House had been shot twice already, he had no real interest in repeating the experience.

He turned, shifting Katy in his lap and looked up at Carrie with exaggerate care.

"Bearing in mind that I am _so_ not a morning person, what could possibly make you say that?"

"It just shows. I can sense these things." Carrie shrugged and refilled his orange juice.

House jerked his head back in a sort of exaggerated nod. "Right. With your...woman's intuition, right?"

"Something like that." Carrie gave a self effacing smile and a shrug. She ruffled Katy's curls and then headed back towards the kitchen.

"Bah!" Katy reached up and patted him hard on the chin, fingers grasping at the fork hovering with his eggs on it. She should be okay for some solids. He reached over and snagged a spoon, scooping some eggs and then cautiously feeding them to the bundle of giggles on his lap. For some reason Katy was absolutely ecstatic to be in the world. She was going to grow up to be a morning person.

Oy vey.

And he would never see it.

House scowled and felt a trickle of water from his still damp hair slide down the back of his neck and under the collar of his sweater. It felt uncomfortably like sweat. Why did he keep coming back to this? He was not fatherhood material, never would be. He would never inflict himself and his baggage on another person never mind a defenceless kid.

Besides, he didn't have the first clue about practical parenting. He knew all the numbers, sure. All the statistics, cut and dry instructions in medical journals X amount of vitamin A at age Y et cetera, yada, et al, but actually being a dad was firmly beyond him and it would _never _be his strong suit.

He scooped up more eggs for Katy who seemed to like them a great deal. At least she wasn't old enough to remember him later. That assuaged his non-guilt a little. She hadn't been with him long enough to become attached either, though the way she clung to his shirt collar might attest that as fallacy.

Cuddy chose that moment to come sailing into the kitchen and Katy squirmed when House's hands involuntarily tightened on her a fraction. She was dressed in a red V-neck sweater in some sort of fuzzy looking material that clung to her every curve, a heavy black corduroy skirt reached her knees with a ruffled hem. She looked nice. She looked gorgeous. Gorgeous and sexy, zesty, lush, sensual, beautiful and sensational and a million other things that he couldn't even put names too and all of them pure brilliance. House let his eyes narrow slightly and track up and down her. Analysing the avalanche of feelings cascading through his chest.

His heart seemed to have jumped up into his throat, then it flipped a one eighty and splashed back down into his stomach. Katy squirmed a little harder and he shifted her again, cradling her up against his shoulder and neck the way she seemed to like. He was trying to be objective about this and the urchin wasn't helping. He seemed to be having some sort of internal melt down. It was all rather interesting really, if one could look at it from an abstracted perspective. That one person could affect another so profoundly, especially one person who had convinced himself so staunchly for the last forty five years that he was above all this affection crap and then to have this…this…_woman_ spring this love crap on him without even exerting any seeming effort on her part was…

Well, it was infuriating.

His eyes finally managed to track up to her face and he found her to be frozen, caught in the act of putting one of her pearl drop earrings on, heat scored her cheeks and he realised that he had not only been staring intently at her for the last few moments, but that he had let everyone else not only notice but have time to stop and stare.

"Morning." He finally blurted and her gaze skittered away.

"Morning." She muttered and forced herself into the room, sitting opposite him, looking down at the glossy tabletop, the breakfast plates, even Carrie, anywhere but at him. His eyes narrowed again. Something was up. She was hiding something. He tilted his head even as his mind leapt at the chance to machinate over something that wasn't personally connected to him. At least not so much anyway. He was still in shock over his little revelation this morning and thinking about what Cuddy was hiding was as good as an excuse as any.

He scooped up another fork full of eggs and chewed thoughtfully while the dining room around them swung back into motion with breakfast and all its trappings. Cuddy turning down the fully fried shebang in favour of some wholemeal toast and honey with…a glass of milk. He smirked and tilted his head at that.

"Milk?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, her eyes touching against his before leaping away again. "I like it." She said defensively and sipped from the glass of cool liquid.

"With honey?" He asked carefully. "Milk and honey?"

She arched a dangerous brow at him and a little thrill shot him that he quashed ruthlessly. Jeez, he was losing control of his brain chemistry, how humiliating.

"I'm not all milk and honey." She told him with a smirk and then buried herself in the paper, which had somehow made it through the snow.

House sat back, gusting out a sigh. "Don't I know it." He muttered and she pretended she hadn't heard him.

**inister cribe**

Cuddy hid deeper amongst the pages of the _New York Times _and stared hard at the Sunday strip of _Calvin & Hobbes_. He was STARING at her. Not just looking, not just studying but scrutinising her from top to toe and making her feel like she had bad spinach between her teeth.

She was trembling inside. Electric, unidentifiable excitement sang in her veins and shivered down her spine and she couldn't quite seem to get a handle on it. She wasn't like this, she hadn't got to be Dean of Medicine in the best hospital the state had to offer by losing battles with her emotions. Her hands trembled a little. She flexed her fingers once and then forced a relax through her entire upper body. All of the parts of her that House could see. Her toes were curled in her boots and her legs were rigid in stilled potential screaming energy and she capped it all and sipped her milk while the image of a soaking wet doctor she had been in lust with for the past twenty years in the bellowing throws of passion played end to end in a constant video reel in her head.

She swallowed hard and then crunched on her rapidly cooling toast. Adrenaline embittered the honey and nothing tasted good in this state.

She had tried to rationalise it. Hiding in her bedroom, getting dressed and fussing over how her ass and her breast looked in this shirt and this skirt and a million other things that she never usually sweated not even when she was meeting with the freaking Governor of state at fundraisers, not even when she went on dates and not even when she was getting ready to talk spoiled rich kid brats out of their money so she could actually stay in the business of saving lives and…and…she had never _tried_ for someone like she had tried for Greg House this morning!

Cuddy's eyes slid out of focus as she stared at Calvin careening down the water colour Cliffside of his world. Hobbes sat in the back with his paws over his eyes and Cuddy couldn't help but identify just a little bit. Why did she suddenly feel like she was falling? Her stomach swooping and the maddening sensation of the world rushing up to smash into her. Everything was off and yet exactly the same. Utterly terrifying while remaining mundane.

She was frantically trying to figure it out while remaining completely placid on the surface. So she had seen him jacking off. Big deal. She had seen worse in her time. She had went to college with the man for God's sake! She wasn't that same starry eyed freshman that she had been then. Yes, he was still brilliant, and sleek and scruffy sexy…and hung like a bull…

She peeked over the top of her paper and saw him absorbed in holding on to Katy. She was currently pulling his shirt away from his chest and examining the steel coloured hair there. Fisting a few curls and looking intently as if considering her tried and true taste test method which seemed to be her preferred litmus test on life, the universe and everything. It must be nice to judge everything as simply on whether or not it tasted good. House was steadfastly convincing her that, no, it would not taste nice and there were only a select few that got to tug on the fuzz…had she imagined the way his eyes had jumped to her and then away again?

She smiled at that small warm thought and turned her attention back to her paper, still not reading, but turning the page for theatrical effect.

He was good with Katy. Better than he realised. Better than he ever let himself realise. It was a pity that he had no realisation of his own self worth. Sure, he was a bastard. He was a shitty person who hurt people as much as he helped them if not more…but he could be compassionate. He could care for that tiny helpless child that had been foisted on him. He could have dumped her. If he'd really tried, child services would have taken her, but he hadn't.

He had taken on Katy. Just for the weekend, he had said, but he liked her. That little tiny personality clinging to him there. He liked her. Cuddy could tell.

And then Cuddy realised what that helium filled feeling in her chest was. That tight giddy sensation that had plagued her since…well, she couldn't really put a time and date on it, but it seemed to be ever present now. Her fingers slackened and the paper slid from her grasp. Spilling down over her lap to slash across the floor in a span of pages crumpled and disarrayed and she blurted the first thing that leapt into her head.

"Oh my god!"

**inister cribe**

"Oh, hello darling! Didn't realise you were going to make it. I thought you had something dreadfully boring to attend to." Carmen Cregg, lawyer about town, held open the door to her spacious town house and gestured with her glass of apple Martini, for Cuddy to enter.

"Oh my _Gawd." _Cuddy stepped over the threshold and took the glass of Martini from Carmen's hand. She took a long gulp, uncaring of how many calories were in the damn thing or how quickly they got her drunk. Tonight she needed to have a drink. It was a stupid attitude to have but this was what she needed. To be with her two closest friends, in a safe, feminine, sexy diagnostician free environment. She paused for breath and Carmen arched a strawberry blonde brow at Lisa. "Oh my Gawd." Lisa spoke again and shrugged off her coat. She threw it in the general direction of the coat rack and then kicked off her heels. She handed the now empty Martini glass back to Carmen and then headed down the hallway in search of more alcohol.

Carmen looked at the glass and then back up to the retreating back of her friend. Lisa was pretty much the least stressed of all three of them. They all had stressful jobs and thrived on it to varying extents but Lisa ate the damn stuff for breakfast. Carmen had seen Lisa truly upset a handful of times; when her mother had told her she would never amount to anything as a doctor, it was a man's pursuit, when she had injured her co-worker to save his life...what was the guy's name...some kind of architecture she was sure, when that Vogler character had tried to take her hospital from her and, most recently when that same crippled doctor had been shot...but Carmen had _never_ seen Lisa panicked.

Before the finals in Michigan, sure, there had been a healthy level of tension for them both, but this was border line hysteria for someone so collected as the good Dean of Medicine of one of the top hospitals in the country.

Carmen padded after Lisa into the lounge. She was dressed casually in black jeans and cashmere scoop necked sweater, it made her laser blue eyes seem bluer and her strawberry blonde hair seem like fire as it tumbled down her back. Lisa was dressed equally as casually, but there was an uncharacteristic crackle of slight disarray about her too. Like she had been more focused on getting here rather than how she looked. At the moment, Lisa was dropping down onto one of Carmen's massive corduroy cushions that she had dragged down off of the couch. She sat by the coffee table and picked up one of the jugs of cocktails sat there, Pinacolada, and poured herself a generous glass full. She didn't bother with the umbrella and settled for drinking as quickly as possible instead.

Carmen settled her graceful hands on her hips and then pursed her lips. She looked over to her third drinking buddy and arched a golden brow at Paloma Sanchez. The five nine, Latino was sprawled on the couch like some ancient Goddess of desire. Her pale golden eyes watched Lisa and her caramel hair caught the firelight from the artificial flames in the hearth. She slid a glance at Carmen who shrugged.

Paloma was the first to break the silence.

"So, Lisa, how was Thanksgiving?"

Lisa finished her glass of cocktail and then folded forward until her head thumped softly against the mahogany of the coffee table. Her hair pooled dark around her head and Paloma shared another look with Carmen before leaning forward to hear the muffled words that Lisa spoke next.

"Oh. My. _GAWD." _

Okay, is she doesn't tell us, I'm gonna have to kill her." Paloma said congenially. Lisa's only response was to lift her head an inch or so off the table top and then thump it back down against the hardwood. Carmen recognised the signs and moved to sit on the arm of the huge leather couch next to Paloma.

"Wait for it." She murmured.

"He planned this!" Lisa jack-knifed into an upright position with a whirl of her dark hair so suddenly that she caused her two friends to jump at the movement. "He had to have planned this. Things like this don't just _happen_ by themselves. Not unless God has finally decided that She's had enough of me on this Earth and is going to get rid of me through the simple means of death by mortification!" Lisa snapped in an almost sing song voice and reached for a second jug of cocktail, this one Tequila Sunrise, and poured herself a generous glassful. She downed half of it in one fell gulp and then stared morosely at the tabletop. She gave an exaggerated shrug and began to fidget with the cocktail jugs. Most of them were of varying colours and sizes and Lisa seemed to be having trouble about the colour arrangement. Should she order them by the colour of the glass or the colour of the contents?

"I mean, I don't think God hates me, I don't hate God. It would be petty to take all that almighty power out on one teensy mortal." Lisa finally gave up on deciding between glass or liquor colour and thought that the best way to solve her problem was to drink the contents and _then_ organise them. She looked up at Carmen and Paloma. "Don't you think?"

Her two friends stared at her for a long moment, Carmen had one leg folded over the other, a Belgium chocolate poised on the cusp of her white teeth, as she did her Oxford educated version of a gape. Paloma was staying very still, the rim of her crystal glass shaped like a well endowed man brushing her lower lip and one caramel brow arched.

Their eyes slowly slid to meet one anothers' and met mutual if silent agreement. They turned back as one and nodded emphatically.

"Absolutely." They intoned together.

Cuddy threw up her hands and surged to her feet from her cross-legged position in a move that Paloma didn't think was strictly humanly possible and she began to pace back and forth across the hardwood of the living room floor.

"I mean, I understand _why_ he did it. It's obviously not enough that he has to haunt my every waking moment in the hospital but, oooooh no, he has to start tormenting me at home as well. While my _father _is there and his stupid bimbo wife and her nympho-blushing son."

"I have no earthly idea what she's talking about." Carmen murmured and snagged another chocolate to eat, passing one to Paloma.

"I've never seen her tweaking this bad before." Paloma murmured in return and wriggled to the side to allow Carmen to sidle down onto the couch with her. It was of the deep cushioned variety that appeared to swallow everyone that sat upon it.

Carmen nodded. It was no great secret that Lisa Cuddy, one of the finest doctors in the state and definitely best administrator, was borderline obsessive compulsive at times. Micro-managing an entire hospital _will _do that to you. What _was_ a secret though, was that when she was agitated, it became worse. An actual compulsion to organise things into an order that only Lisa could see. As the various photographs on Carmen's mantle were now finding out for themselves. Anger was fine, Lisa had a steely control for when she was enraged, but panic was an entirely different emotion and one she exhibited so rarely she had never really gotten a handle on it.

"I wouldn't mind so much if he had acted as he usually does." Carmen tuned back into the rant that Lisa was really working into a good lather now. "Him being a bastard I can handle. If he's rude and abrasive and immature then...it's expected." She slapped a picture of the three of them between one of Carmen's nieces and one of Carmen and Ben on her wedding day, then whirled on Carmen and Paloma, an almost fierce look in her eyes. "Isn't it?"

They nodded hurriedly as was expected. They still had no idea what was going on.

"But being nice to me...holding Katy like he actually cares...and making it snow! What the hell is up with that?!" Lisa flung her arm in an expansive arc and then huffed, resuming her pacing, stopping only to turn a vase of flowers just so.

Paloma turned to Carmen. "Who's Katy?" She whispered.

Carmen shrugged and sipped more of her strawberry daiquiri.

"Big bastard." Lisa snapped and stooped to refill her glass (Mermaid's Orgasm this time) and sipped the drink deeply. "Big bastard, pretending he cares in front of Daddy." She swirled her drink in her glass and twisted her lips. "And exactly where does he get off on kissing me?!"

Carmen and Paloma exchanged another look and Paloma opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a sweeping gesture from Lisa's arm slicing through the air.

"And keep your smart comments to yourselves because I came here to get drunk and get over the fact that I found one of my top doctors in my shower jacking off and shouting my name as he came, okay?"

A stunned silence reined throughout the room broken only by Lisa's harsh panting at the effort her rant had cost her and then the gulp of her swallowing the rest of her drink. She was getting very sloshed very quickly.

The silence lasted all of a minute before both Paloma and Carmen began talking at once.

"Okay, one; what was your 'top doctor' doing in you shower?"

"And two; why was he jacking off and how did you find out?"

"Three; why your name? Is there something going on with you and the good doctor that brings a new meaning to 'working under you'?"

"Four; who's Katy?"

"And _five!_...well, I don't really have a five. I think four is enough to go on for now."

Lisa thumped down onto the cushion and let her head fall back against the tabletop.

"Oh my Gawd."


	9. Chapter 9: Monday Morning

Chapter 9: Monday Morning

_**Okies kids, I'm not sure about this chapter at all, but Scarlett seemed to like it, so here we are. It was all written in about two hours so please excuse any spelling and/or grammar mistakes and gimme some nice reviews to make up for it!!**_

_**Uh, I have a headache from writing this in the dark but at least now it's done and hopefully this should be the last of those sticky chapters that have been a bother to write. **_

_**Fingers crossed. **_

_**Oh, and pick which story you want updated next. I'm entirely open to suggestions.**_

_Chapter 9: Monday Morning_

House stared down at Katy, sprawled in her designated drawer. He had left the crib at Cuddy's. She slept peacefully, her little chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. House sat on the edge of his bed, chin propped on his cane, his mind tumbling over and over as he watched her. It was so strange, such a little tiny…thing, that had plopped into his life and sent waves out like a rock in a pond. So small, so innocent looking, but the comparative tranquillity had been destroyed. Shockwaves bleeding out and slapping to the distant shores. The fish startled and the ecosystem rocked off balance. His little world, his habitat invaded and usurped by a creature that weighed eighteen pounds.

He scowled at her. Little brat. She slept on blissfully unaware.

He was not cut out for this. Domesticity was not his thing. He was a man of his own habits and wiles. A hermit in his cave thank-you-very-much. He liked his solitude and his vices. Liked his whisky and his piano, not baby rattles and early motor-skills development toys. This last weekend had been pretend, make-believe, a fantasy. He was not cut out for the real thing. He did not want the real thing.

Didn't care for it.

Didn't care for her.

He was free range, Goddamnit.

He was not father material.

House sighed and sat down on the end of his bed. That was what it really came down too, after all. He flipped his cane from hand to hand idly and watched the child sleep on blissfully unawares. He was not fit for the domestic life simply because he was too wild for it. He was too old and too set in his ways to go changing now and that was what really grated on him. Katy herself, did not expect it, at least not now, but she would. Others would too. He would have to change to be a 'suitable' father. He would have to be politer, learn social graces, teach her manners…observe the niceties in life.

There was all that and then there was the highly unnerving realisation that the Great Gregory House had come up against something that he wasn't entirely sure that he could do by himself.

And _then_ there was the stupid great bombshell of realising he was in the L-word with his boss. His highly attractive and completely out of reach boss. She was pretty much perfect for him because she was so imperfect herself. Her guilt, his scars, his rough edges to her smooth ones. He knew they were good together, knew they would be fantastic together in bed, both of them far too highly sexed to be anything but…but she was another one that always wanted him to abide by the rules. To hunker down and work. The same basic lesson that he had been getting since he was old enough to misbehave and understand that while other kids might have been given the belt on occasion for misbehaving, none of them were made to sleep in the yard, or take ice baths or force feed him chocolate cake until he was so sick with it his mother had wanted to take him to the emergency room. House's grip tightened on his cane until his knuckles cracked and whitened. He swallowed hard and scrubbed a hand over his stubble roughened jaw.

He might not want to follow the rules, call it a personality defect, chronic immaturity or even a Peter Pan complex but he knew he never – _ever – _wanted to become his father and the simplest way to do that was to avoid parenthood altogether.

Then there was always the niggling feeling that he wanted to prove his father wrong. Again, probably hopelessly childish and not the noblest of intentions but it would keep Katy out of a home…which was not what he wanted for her despite his claims to the contrary.

Which led him back to the start of his problem, he didn't think he could do it.

House snarled low in his throat and thumped his head against the crook of his cane. He was getting nowhere with this. He toppled back on his bed and snagged the vicodin bottle from the nightstand, he shook two from the orange vial and froze in the action of swallowing them both. With a sigh, he plunked one of them back into the bottle and settled for just the one. Last thing he needed was to sleep through Katy falling to the floor on her head.

House managed to convince himself that was a practical thought and not a paternal one. He shimmied up the bed and punched the pillows into a satisfying carnage before mashing his face against them in a vague attempt at comfort. He couldn't even drink himself into a stupor because he had the small and annoying to look after as well as himself.

Another black mark against her.

House sighed and tried to sleep a little harder.

He would worry about it in the morning.

**Sinister Scribe**

Cuddy sat in her office, stared at her paper work and tried to concentrate.

As with the previous fifty seven attempts in as many seconds, it failed miserably. She tapped the end of her pen against the blotter on her desk and stared morosely at the spreadsheet in front of her. Her hangover pounded cheerfully behind her eyes, her hair seemed to be screaming, her skin must have shrunk in the shower this morning because it was decidedly too small but aside from that, she was just peachy keen. Cuddy rubbed at her temples and wondered if eating an entire bottle of aspirin would make her feel better or worse.

Not that she could feel much worse.

Not after Paloma and Carmen had dragged the entire sordid tale of her Thanks Giving weekend with House out of her. Complete with commentary on That Kiss in the garage, the perfect manners in front of her father, how adorable the picture of House with Katy on her cell phone was and, of course, the whole shower scene that still had her squirming in her chair and a flush scoring high over her cheeks. Cuddy searched in vain for another train of thought but that station was devoid of life. The only image she could conjure with any great clarity was of House holding Katy on his lap. That small smile on his face or the look of fierce scrutiny when the tiny child did something he didn't expect or hadn't given her credit for.

Cuddy's heart ached at the thought of the tiny infant being packed off to social services this morning but she had done all she could. She would have taken her herself but there was no way that the social services were going to give her a child, not a single woman nearing forty that worked nearly a hundred hours a week. Cuddy propped her chin on her hand and stared out at the bright sunshine outside. It was watery fall sunshine that turned copper through the red leaves of Princeton-Plainsboro's mascot trees. It was a nice morning. Good for running in, though she had refrained from that given how upset her stomach still was at her from the night before.

Cuddy couldn't help but feel it should be raining though.

**Sinister Scribe**

"Uuuuuhh…Mr House, you're next."

House looked up as the young harried looking woman called his name and then double checked the clipboard in front of her.

"Seriously? You're named after a form of architecture. Are your cousins Bungalow?" House levered himself to his feet and glared at her. "Cathedral?" She tried again with a slightly mischevious smile and then shrugged it off when his sense of humour didn't rise to the occasion. "Whatever, honey, I'm not any more pleased about being here on a Monday morning than you are. Follow me to the bat-cave. My name is Angelina St Croix, I'll be your social worker this morning. " She pronounced everything with a low southern drawl that reminded House immediately of how Stacy had always tried to hammer it out of her accent. She pronounced her name in the original bayou fashion of 'San Kwra' She swept an arm down the hallway and snagged the BBOBT and sashayed in front of him.

She was tiny, four feet eleven max, wild brown hair tied haphazardly in a knot on top of her head. She had wide deep brown eyes set in an elfin featured face. Her smile was so insidiously infectious that House didn't realise how virulent until he found himself giving a half-smirk back to her. Her grin widened at the triumph. She swept into one of the tiny cupboards masquerading as an office in the well-used red brick building that was the New Jersey Department of Child Services Headquarters and dropped the baby-bag with a flick of her wrist before swishing around her paperwork laden desk with a flick of her long dark skirt.

"Riiiiight, House, House, Hooouuuussee…there you are!" She whipped the pertinent file out of the heavily leaning tower on her desk and watched it wide eyed for a second when it toppled ominously, only to breathe a sigh of relief when the quo was once more status. Dropping into her chair on the other side of the desk, she gestured for him to do the same and pulled one of the biro pens from the knot of hair on top of her head and bit it between her teeth as she scanned the papers quickly.

House, for his part, sat down with Katy and quieted the infant as best he could. It was fairly obvious that she was not enamoured with being in the Child Services building but there wasn't a whole lot he could do about that.

"So, says here that you've been made legal guardian of Katherine here…"

"Katy."

"What?" Angelina looked up at him and raised one eyebrow over faded dollar bill green eyes.

"Her name is Katy." House muttered. He hadn't meant to say anything and looked around the office when Angelina subjected him to an intense scrutiny. He found himself staring at photographs all over one wall with Angelina surrounded by various kids at various family holidays. She was covered in face paint in one, done to look like a vibrant butterfly around her eyes and the other had her smeared in what looked to be a mixture of whipped cream and flour, with the little urchins scattered around her not much better off. All of them looked like they'd had a damn good time getting that mucky though.

"Right, and you want to…put _Katy_ up for adoption, it says here." Angelina pursed her lips and flipped through the file. "Your Katy's only legal guardian now that her parents are dead and you're…giving her away."

"I'm not suitable parent material." House said slowly to her. Sounded uncomfortably like he was explaining himself to her. maybe even defending himself.

"Yeah, your 'rap sheet' with the good Detective Tritter." Her lips twisted wryly.

"You've met him?" House's brows raised despite himself. There was something disarming about Angelina. Something so completely harmless that you couldn't help but talk to her. House realised he was probably being manipulated by her in some way to get this response from him but he'd be damned if he could actually figure out how she was doing it.

"Oh yeah, guy likes to pick up my kids and arrest them now before they can do anything _really_ serious. Because that way they _obviously_ won't be tarred with the criminal brush and judged for the rest of their lives at a glance. Yes. Detective Tritter and I are acquainted." Angelina flipped the file shut with a trifle more force than was necessary and looked up at House.

"Here's how this works. You sign Katy over to us and she'll be placed in a crèche home until suitable foster parents can be found. She's a cute baby and still young enough to grow up without knowing who her real mommy and daddy are so chances are good that she'll be shipped off to the next adoptive home and raised there like the cute little button she is."

"What if she's not?" Despite strict orders for nonchalance, House's mouth mutinied and demanded what his mind was warning him against.

"What if she's not what?"

"Adopted."

"Then she'll be a charge of the state until she's eighteen. The chances of her staying in the same home for more than one year at a time are slim at best. She'll be shunted around like so much meat until her self esteem puts her at somewhere just above animal vomit and refuse and then she'll probably run away before she reaches the age of eighteen. Again, the chances are that she won't be able to find a legal job and since she's pretty now she'll be pretty later. I imagine she'll be quite the popular one on her street corner." Angelina sat forward leaning her elbows on the desk and glared. Not at House but at the future she saw for the child in his arms. House was caught somewhere between anger and admiration for the sheer force of Angelina's personality. He was prevented from saying anything by her next words though.

"You don't want to take her, which makes me wonder why. You're injured, sure, but it obviously doesn't affect your job judging by the fact you're wearing a hundred dollars worth of sneakers alone so, my guess is, you're either an abused child yourself or you just don't want to grow up." She watched him for half a moment, judging his expression. "Or quite possibly both." She reached into the drawer and filed out some papers, double checking them and jotting down a few details before sliding them across the desk at him.

"It's not as easy as it sounds…" House began and stopped when her thousand degree glare lanced him.

"Sign the papers or get out of my office. Sounds pretty simple to me. You either get some stones or you get gone. Just quit wasting mine and Katy's time with your theatrics though." She snapped at him and returned to her filing. Looking over the file of the next poor sap she was about to bully into parenthood obviously.

Katy whimpered and squirmed in his hold and it took him a moment to quiet her by fishing her bear out of her bag for her. He bounced her a moment on his good leg and then slid the papers across the desk to lie in front of him. He picked up the pen and stared at the dotted line with the red arrow next to it, pointing jauntily to where he was going to sign one little girl's life away.

House flexed his hand and put pen to paper to sign.

**Sinister Scribe**

"Hey, you okay?"

Cuddy looked up from her morose staring out the window and blinked a little guiltily at Wilson standing over her.

"I'm fine." She answered automatically. They both knew she didn't mean it but then, they both knew her well enough to leave the subject alone too.

"Here, I bring goodies." Wilson sat opposite her and opened a bag from the nearest deli. He passed her a sandwich a mineral water and then a large tub of oh-good-God chocolate mousse! Cuddy abandoned any pretence of a healthy meal and chowed down immediately on the mousse. She may have felt sorry for Katy but there was also a healthy helping of self-pity in there too.

"That bad, huh?" Wilson wondered aloud and ate his own sandwich with impeccable manners.

"Worse." Cuddy lapped the back of the spoon and dug for more. It tasted heavenly and she was in no mood to stop any time soon. Wilson looked like he planned on saying something to that but he was stopped by the sharp rapping on the door from Brenda. They both turned and Cuddy nodded for Brenda to enter.

"Doctor Cuddy, it's Doctor House, he says that…"

"I'll be right there." Cuddy sighed tiredly and got to her feet. She licked her lips, savouring the most of the chocolate she could and strode out into the clinic. She had wanted to put off seeing him today for as long as possible but she supposed what she wanted and what House did were quite often two very different things. She saw him hovering by exam room one and walked over to him, planting her hands on her hips she made her demand with as much cool and calm as a woman who constantly pictured him naked and, ahem, ready for her, could.

"What is it, House?"

"Well, I was just wondering," he turned to her on his good leg, swinging the baby carrier around with him. "Do I get time off clinic for daddy-time?"

Cuddy's jaw dropped open on a gape that rapidly reformed itself into a smile. Katy waved a tiny fist at her and babbled happily.

"You're keeping her?" Cuddy looked like he'd just offered to personally go out and do a year's worth of schmoosing of donors for her and be good at it too.

"Well, there are conditions but…"

"Who the hell cares?!" Cuddy replied jauntily and did something neither of them expected. She threw her arms around his neck, hugged him tightly and kissed him soundly on the cheek.

In front of the entire clinic.


	10. Chapter 10: Grinning Omens

Chapter 10: Grinning Omens

_Chapter 10: Grinning Omens_

House mused that he was in trouble.

He watched Cuddy and Katy take the chair and he dropped himself smoothly onto the couch. He propped his leg on the coffee table and Cuddy was so engrossed with Katy that she didn't even spare the time to glare at him. Katy seemed equally as pleased to see her long lost friend in Cuddy and gripped Cuddy's pearls in one tiny fist rattling them soundly against her collar bone. Cuddy's colour was still high from the incident in the clinic that morning. She had been cute when she had finally detached herself from around his neck, stammering on through her embarrassment as if she hugged and smooched her employees everyday. As kisses went, one on the cheek was not what he wanted to settle for, but it would do for now, because he knew he could get so much more from her. She had dismissed him, blushing up at him but unable to hold back her smile. Unable to stop herself from letting Katy grip her finger…and from letting her fingers trail over his arm when she finally moved away.

He wondered if she knew how much she gave away just by being. He wondered if she knew that he _hadn't_ been the one to start a rumour about the affair between them, she had done that all on her own, just by the way she interacted with him. Not that he was ever going to let her know that he hadn't done it. He had a reputation to keep up, a reputation that had taken quite a beating today since he had been toting the 'cutest little blonde curls' around in the crook of his arm for most of the day. There were advantages to be had though. He had spent most of the day testing just how far the nurses had softened up to him because of Katy and they had made an unstoppable force in the lunch queue that afternoon. Good times. Finally he felt he'd spent a long enough time away from Cuddy before ambling down here at five.

Which led him to be sitting in her office watching her and Katy grin at each other and have a fairly one sided conversation.

There was something about it.

Something about seeing Cuddy with a baby, happy with a baby, that did strange visceral things to House. He felt the low burn of lust in his gut, the singing sensation under his skin that itched to press up against hers, but it was more than just lust. He was…happy at seeing Cuddy and Katy together. It did good things for his insides. Filled in that gaping instinctual part in his hind brain that demanded propagating the species and, though Katy wasn't his –and neither was Cuddy yet- the alpha male sitting proudly in the back of House's mind had absolutely no doubts that it would only be a matter of time.

He had the baby, the woman would follow.

"House?"

Crap, she had been talking to him. He grunted in the back of his throat.

"I said have you decided what you're going to do?" Cuddy shifted Katy on her lap so the tot could see him. Katy recognised him even at the distance between them and she shouted happily, arms raised for him. House took time to gather his thoughts by shifting along the couch so that his knee brushed Cuddy's and he could lean over into her personal space under the pretence of taking both Katy's hands in his.

"I'm keeping her, that's as far as I've got."

Cuddy's skin flushed again and he watched with satisfaction as the rosy hue spread over her throat and up over her cheeks. He never figured her for a blusher. She didn't usually. She hadn't before last weekend, not matter what he'd said to her…a smile quirked his lips.

That meant he was having an effect on her.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, her tongue traced over her lips and he wondered if she had any idea what that did to him. His eyes rose to meet hers again and he took in the sight of her dilated pupils, her parted lips. Oh yes, she had an idea.

"You really haven't thought this through, have you?" She swallowed hard and he dipped his gaze to watch the movement of her throat.

"I've thought enough." He assured her in a low rumble. He wanted her. Katy was perched between them on Cuddy's knees, babbling away, oblivious to the tension between the two adults, but he still wanted her. All wide pale eyes and wild dark hair, the image of her spread out on her bed, mussed from sleep flashed before him only to be replaced by the much more pleasing image that his mind rendered of her naked and spread out, skin flushed, and the mussing from the rough sweet sex that he wanted from her.

He would have it too, just not now.

He sat back from her and suppressed a smile when he noticed the flicker of something that looked suspiciously like disappointment in her gaze.

"What do you think I need?" He challenged her, he needed to buy time. Formulate a plan. He would have her. That was certain. How he was going to get her though, was still up in the air.

"Well," Cuddy ran her tongue over that lush mouth again and House shifted in his seat. Sometimes she really was the devil and he meant that in the nicest possible way. "You can't keep her living out of a bag, you're going to need more things for her." Cuddy shifted Katy again so that the now dozing child could pillow her blonde curls against the curve of Cuddy's breasts. House tried his best to suppress the lurch in his gut. The shock of '_mine, want, have'_ that ran straight up his spine and knocked him on the back of the skull like an electric current. He was still rational enough to recognise that instinct was driving most of his decisions at the moment. This morning he had signed the adoption papers for Katy out of an instinct to protect her. That had been paternal instinct. What do you know, it did exist.

It would seem that you couldn't have just one set of instincts, you had to have them all.

"So, another trip to the mall for us." House murmured, his eyes never leaving Katy cuddled in Cuddy's lap.

"Us?" Cuddy bleated and House grinned suddenly. Of course. When he had spoken he had meant himself and Katy, but this was perfect. If he was already affecting Cuddy in what could only be a good way, judging by the rate of her pulse when he stood close to her, then continued exposure to both him and the rugrat would only mean good things for him too. Katy too by association because he knew he couldn't do this entirely on his own. He'd need Cuddy to be a steadying influence. He was smart enough to recognise that at least.

"Yeah, I don't know what to buy. You'll need to come with."

"But I…"

"What? You didn't have any problems with dragging me there on Saturday morning." House shrugged one shoulder and dry swallowed a Vicodin. Just one.

"Well…okay." She swallowed again and looked anywhere but at him. "And you'll have to get a bigger place. She can't sleep in a drawer forever."

"I've lived in that apartment for fifteen years." House scowled at her.

"Life's about change. You made your bed, time to lie in it." She glared back at him and he was glad to see the old fire. That was something he could work with.

"You first." He smirked at her and that smile that she could never quite suppress when she was around him tugged at her mouth.

"Oh no, I'm here on a strictly advisory capacity." Cuddy sat back in her chair sliding Katy onto her back so she could sleep on undisturbed. "Au pair level, nothing higher."

"Oh goody, all the best au pairs end up doing the horizontal honky-tonk with the master of the house." He bobbed his eyebrows at her and she rolled her eyes.

"You can forget that for a while too." Cuddy smirked at him evilly.

"Oh really?" House's answering smile did not reassure her at all.

In fact, the last time he had smiled at her like that, he had ended up doing the opposite of what she had said and gotten exactly what he wanted.

Was that some kind of omen?

_The End_

_**Don't kill me!!**_

**This is just the first part of a longer series. I've discovered the reason I get bogged down and keep deleting stories is because they're too chunky and long. So, I'm gonna start trying to write shorter stories to keep them fresher. **

**And how I said I was thinking about winding down my fanfic career, totally lying. I might cut down on the amount of stories I'm writing, but I don't think I'll ever really stop.**

**Yes, so, next instalment would be…whenever I get around to writing it. I'm going to try and finish two of my other stories before I start the sequel to House Breaking, because it really is past time I got started on that one. I just need to figure out a plot on that one. **

**The only story that I'm seriously thinking of scrapping is the Godmother, because it's very similar to where I'm thinking of heading with this story so there wouldn't be much point in writing two of the same thing. **

**And I know this chapter was short, but you've got another two stories at least that have to come from this plotline so content yourself. You haven't seen the last of Katy or even Angelina by a long shot.**

**Prank 2 Far chapter 18 is started. Love Stinks Part II is also started but I dunno if I'll keep what I've written. There's a Harry Potter story on my deviantart account as well as an original character smut fest on there too, still pondering Marcus' revenge on Nicole for those of you who are already following that one. **

**Thanks for reading, review if ya luv me!! **


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